Smoke and Mirrors
by legalliz
Summary: Things aren't always what they seem as another mystery unfolds in the wacky world of Plum. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Everything familiar belongs to Janet Evanovich. Plot and mistakes are mine._

It was late one night when I got a call from my office. I was already in bed taking a last look through my emails and skimming through all the major news stories from the day. At first I debated answering. It was probably a new hire wanting to look good by working the extra late hours. Too bad I wasn't exactly known for being polite when it came to disturbing my personal time. Guess this poor soul was about to experience all that first hand.

"There better be a darn good reason for this call," I growled into my phone.

"James, it's me," came a soft reply.

It was Lisa, my personal assistant. Basically she was my spare brain in human form. She kept me as organized as humanly possible and was worth her weight in gold as far as assistants were concerned. She was smart and sassy and capable of smoothing things over on the rare occasion I overdid it on an interview. And she also knew better than to call me this late.

I sat up in bed. "What have you got for me this time, Lis?"

"How much do you know a about that local bounty hunter case?" she asked.

I thought for a moment. The news had been littered with all the gruesome details when the story first broke several months back, but a lot of the press circus had died down rather quickly. Rumor had it that there was a suspect being held at the state prison, but beyond that, details remained uncharacteristically vague. My guess was that someone was paying some major bucks to keep things quiet. And other than a little morbid curiosity, I hadn't really been interested in following the story further.

"Not much," I admitted.

"I've got a file here that I've started for you," she said. "I'll drop it by on my way home."

I glanced at my bedside clock. Just after midnight. "Why do I need the file, Lis?"

"You got a call this evening."

"And?"

"There's a man who wants to see you."

"So you went ahead and agreed to the meeting without consulting me first?" I was only partially serious with the tone of the question. I trusted Lisa with most spur of the moment decisions, and she knew it.

"Just go with me on this one, Jimmy. Read the file. You've got a meeting tomorow at ten."

"Willing to gamble your job on the value of this meeting?"

There was a moment of silence. "Job's not that great. My boss is kind of a slave driver. And I haven't had a bonus in over a year."

"Mmm. I see. Sounds like a real piece of work. Want me to have a word with him?"

"Nah, I've got leverage if I need it."

"Oh?"

"Don't worry about it. I've gotta tie up a few loose ends here and then I'll drop the file by your place. Think you'll still be up in thirty minutes?"

"For you, I'll be up another thirty- _five_ minutes."

"Good deal. Later, Jimmy."

The call ended and I made my way out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I was in the middle of organizing some of my notes when I saw my phone light up. I buzzed Lisa in and waited at the top of the stairs. She was nearly doubled over when she made it up to my floor.

"You really need to have someone take a look at that elevator," she panted. "Six flights of stairs on limited sleep could probably kill someone." She handed me the file.

"This it?" I asked thumbing through the pages.

"For now. We'll add to it as necessary. I have a feeling what's in that file is probably barely scratching the surface on this one." She stood with her hand on her hip and watched me for a minute. Then she sighed. "I don't know, James. We might be in over our heads on this one."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then why'd you rope me into all of this in the first place? You know I've got enough going on right now to keep me plenty busy."

Lisa turned to leave. "Just looking out for you, I guess. Besides," she said over her shoulder, "it wasn't all me this time. That man in the folder? He specifically asked for you."

I watched her disappear down the stairwell. Then I opened the file again. As far as I could tell, I didn't know the face staring back at me. Naturally I was curious why this individual had personally chosen me to confide in. My vanity wanted me to believe it was because of my brilliant reputation, but even I knew my reputation wasn't _that_ good. Something else was the driving force behind all of this, and come ten o'clock tomorrow morning, I was about to find out what.

The next day I woke up and decided to dress business casual for the day. I grabbed the file from my nightstand and decided to swing by Dunkin Donuts on the way over to the meeting. It wasn't my first time going to the prison, but I figured I needed something sweet to balance out the dreariness of all the steel bars and barbed wire. I grabbed a coffee and Boston Cream to go.

As I pulled up to one of the guard stations, I flashed my badge. He waved me through and directed me to some public parking spaces. I took a look around and cringed. Huge guard towers encased the grounds casting daunting shadows that made it feel like even the sun wouldn't want to linger long in this place.

I continued on to the main entrance where I passed through enough metal detectors and security to make me safe enough to meet the pope. Guess the guards wanted to make sure that nothing unscrupulous would be taking place between me and my new buddy.

I followed a guard down a long corridor to the window visit room. I was asked to deposit all my personal belongings into a plastic bin that I could retrieve once the visit was completed. It was strange how naked I felt without my wallet and phone. However, I was permitted a notebook and pen along with the file I'd been carrying with me all morning. Guess paper products were on the approved list.

I walked into the room with all the windows and phones and was led to the last seat against the wall. My new acquaintance was already situated across from me.

The man sitting in the chair looked different than the picture from the file. His complexion was Hispanic with medium skin and smooth, dark hair. He'd let it grow out, and it was currently tied in a low ponytail. A rough beard grew along his jawline and there was a noticeable scar above his left eye. His posture exuded power and control; his eyes were fixed on the floor.

I took a seat and picked up the phone. The man across from me didn't respond. It took all my willpower to keep from saying something, but I kept repeating what Lisa had told me in the car.

"Let him talk first," she'd said over the phone. "Remember he sought you out. Don't ruin everything by jumping the gun."

So we just sat. No talking, no eye contact for what felt like an eternity. Then I thought I saw his shoulder twitch, and his gaze suddenly met mine. The intense stare made my blood turn cold.

"Your dad ever talk much about his days in the military?" he asked. His voice was gravelly and rough.

"Not really," I answered.

"Smart man." He paused then shifted in his seat. "Talked about you all the time."

I stared at him a moment. He couldn't have been much older than forty, and I had a hard time seeing him in Special Forces with my dad. Especially so young.

"So you knew my dad." It was more of a statement than a question.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod in response. "Good man."

I now had a pretty good feeling my dad was the reason I was sitting across from this enigmatic stranger. And I definitely had a growing list of questions, but I knew I needed to let him lead the conversation. I was worried if he didn't, this meeting would soon be over.

"You read the papers?" he finally asked.

I nodded. "Kind of my job to know what's going on."

"So you know about the girl."

I held up my file. "My assistant compiled a bit of background here, but I have to admit, the story's been kept quieter than most. It almost feels like a ghost story. Give it a few years and it might even turn into urban legend."

"No offense," he said darkly, "but I don't have a few years."

"You haven't had your trial yet."

"Let's just say I've got a pretty good sense about these things."

We sat staring at each other for several more minutes. "So…" I started hesitantly, "how exactly do I fit into all of this?"

"I need someone," he said looking at me as if peering into my soul. "Someone I can trust. I was hoping that someone would be you."

I frowned. "Why do I have a feeling that's going to be a pretty tall order?"

His face remained taciturn and dark. Then his posture shifted and I wondered if he was contemplating ending our discussion. "Maybe I misjudged you. Maybe you're not the man I've been looking for."

Eventually I shook my head and sighed. "No, you've found the right man." I opened my notepad and grabbed my pen. "You got a name you want me to use?"

He stared at the floor again. "You can use the only name that means anything anymore. I go by my street name here. Ranger."

The name was an old military nickname. I recognized it almost the moment I heard it. But the way it cut through the air around us made me think of something far more treacherous. Like he was summoning something dark and dangerous from the past.

I readjusted my posture in an attempt to make myself more comfortable. "Ok Ranger, what do you want to tell me about the murder of Stephanie Plum?"

His eyes met mine again as he leaned forward. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. "Everything."


	2. Chapter 2

The moment he first saw him, it must have been fate, he decided. From that moment on, he was completely obsessed. The man in black moved like a ghostly shadow, his dark complexion and clothing obscuring his muscular form in the darkness. He stalked and crouched with all the mannerisms of a lethal panther.

But the real excitement came when he found his prey. His gun was drawn, but not a single shot rang out in the night. It wasn't necessary. The hunted man cowered back like he was face to face with the devil himself. The look of such raw fear was intoxicating.

He wanted to feel something watching the man in black that night; like respect or even a sense of admiration. Because he was a work of art, strategic and athletic perfection. But the only feelings that he could muster were jealousy and sheer hatred. In a matter of seconds without even so much as an introduction, the man in black became his sworn enemy.

The world was cruel to the weak. He'd learned this terrible truth early on in life. The bullies in school had tortured him mercilessly for years, and friendships had been difficult to cultivate. As the years progressed, he grew dark and calloused and malicious. He knew he'd never be physically strong enough to overcome his tormentors, so he turned his attentions to forms of psychological revenge.

He exploited their worst fears and made them feel small and terrified. The same way he'd always felt as the bullies stalked towards him, their eyes dark with cruel intent. After his first few successes, he decided the destruction of someone's peace of mind was almost as exhilarating as the physical release of a hand-to-hand fist fight. And much easier to maintain control of.

Best of all, if he executed his plans with enough forethought and precision, his identity would remain a secret. It was convenient in avoiding any forms of retaliation. No one knew who was behind the strange and terrifying occurrences at the high school. There were a few rumored guesses, but nobody ever suspected the pale, scrawny kid who'd always been the weakling of the pack. A wicked grin spread across his face as he realized the man in black wasn't the only one who moved in shadow.

He watched him as he cuffed his target and shoved him forcefully toward the street. A dark vehicle pulled up several minutes later and the two men disappeared like shadows in the night.

It was almost a year later before he had a name to put with that face. Some lowlifes living in the darkness and shadows of Trenton referred to him as El Diablo, _the devil_. But the vast majority knew him by his street name, Ranger. Hardened criminals whispered it with reverence and dread. And he knew he'd found his man.

Thus began the start of his research. It was a challenge to be sure. While Ranger had moved like a shadow in the darkness, he also appeared a ghost on paper. A vacant lot was listed as his current address, and any background searches were either full of holes or oddly ambiguous. So he waited. The challenge only inspired a stronger resolve to succeed.

He pieced together a notebook with the facts he'd come across as he tried to identify the ultimate weakness for his nemesis. The findings were frustrating. This man was obviously well outside the range of average…or even normal. Bankrupting him seemed futile; he was clearly business minded, not to mention clever. His assets were well diversified. He also seemed to have an unidentifiable monetary source that remained impervious to a number of hacking attempts. No, he decided, monetary revenge would not be useful against this Ranger.

The research continued into the realm of family and friends. There were people he cared for, people he trusted, but no one who would reduce him to a cowering fool. He was a lone wolf in every sense of the term. No attachments, no relationships.

There was a brief terrifying moment when he wondered if Ranger suspected him; if he knew he was being watched from the shadows. Perhaps _he_ was in fact the one being stalked. But then something changed. A bizarre stroke of luck. The man in black started completing takedown jobs with a sidekick.

He paid her little attention at first. Well, when he could anyway. She always seemed to be landing herself in some new mess. Her cars had an average shelf life of about twenty-four hours, and she repeatedly uncovered secrets and mysteries that were often hazardous to her health. She kept him entertained sometimes, and he was convinced she kept Ranger distracted enough to ignore the possibility of his existence. She was crazy and perfect.

However, on future reflection, he realized he had perhaps been too focused on studying Ranger to notice the real situation unfolding right in front of him. Then the imposter appeared on the scene. News stories broke with rumors of a kidnapping, the leading suspect none other than Ranger. It didn't take him long to put some mystery pieces together and figure out about the other man involved. If successful in his motives, this Scrogg fellow was going to put some serious kinks in his ultimate plan. It was unacceptable.

Before he was able to formulate his own plan to eliminate this new player, the situation was miraculously resolved. In a very unexpected way. Ranger had decided to comply with this madman's wishes. He confronted Scrogg alone, and from all appearances with the expectation of receiving bodily harm.

He'd puzzled with the question of why for days after the event. The answer was obviously connected to the two people held hostage during the confrontation. One was the crazy sidekick. The other was Ranger's daughter.

He initially toyed with a plan to kidnap the daughter assuming she was the obvious chink in the armor of his nemesis. But during his work on the plan, he had a sudden epiphany. The girl was significant; she was his flesh and blood. However, the two remained distant. She could be used to damage him. But the sidekick, he postulated, the sidekick could lead to his true undoing.

How had he never noticed before? He'd been blinded by his own obsession, and it had caused him to overlook the obvious. The evidence was all right there in plain sight. And he'd been an absolute fool to miss it! He fumed at the oversight, shredding pages from the notebook in an unbridled rage.

The next morning, his thoughts had cleared. The day was fresh with new possibilities, and he was ready to accept his shortcomings. Besides, it wasn't likely that they would interfere with the success of his ultimate plan.

He took a seat at his computer and started searching for a news article he remembered reading from a while back. He opened it with a terrifying grin and ran a finger over the face on the screen. "Bombshell Bounty Hunter, Stephanie Plum, Burns Down Local Funeral Home," it read.

"Hello, Ms. Plum," he crooned. "So very pleased to meet you."


	3. Chapter 3

_Ranger's POV_

I'd had the nightmares again. The ones I always feared would one day become my reality. My sheets were completely drenched in sweat, and I quickly determined that sleep was probably going to be unattainable the rest of the night.

I took the elevator down a few floors to the gym and tried to regain control of the situation by running a few miles on the treadmill. I set my pace and ran the first several minutes to open my lungs and clear my head. It was all part of my standard routine. But this time my body resisted the attempts to relax and recalibrate.

I cranked up the speed and ran at a full on sprint for several minutes. The release felt good, but even after I was covered in sweat, I still felt unsettled. I guess I'd never truly be able to outrun my demons.

Then I hit the firing range. If I couldn't outrun the demons, I could at least blow them all to hell. I fired what felt like a hundred rounds. Every monster that tortured my mind died a gruesome death. After all, my aim and accuracy were beyond lethal. However, as I put my gun away, I had a terrible feeling the real monster I was trying to destroy resided deep inside the man who sought to destroy it. Or far more horrifying, maybe the man _was_ the monster. I quickly brushed the thought from my mind.

I sighed as I made my way back upstairs. These nights sucked. And I was worried they were becoming more frequent.

After a quick shower, I threw some clean clothes on and checked my email. Big surprise. There wasn't a whole lot going on at two in the morning. I sat on the floor and tried some deep breathing exercises, but I was feeling like I had enough excess energy at the moment to run a marathon. Maybe two.

I pulled on a black hooded sweatshirt and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Maybe I just needed some fresh air. A run on the streets seemed like a decent solution to my problem. I convinced myself the cool air would be soothing and refreshing. But I knew before I even started out that the real focus of this run was my destination.

Sure enough, before I knew it, I was standing outside a very familiar brick apartment complex. I glanced up at the window that I knew belonged to her. It was dark, as it should be this time of night. I climbed the stairs to the second floor and stood several seconds outside her door.

In a brief moment of hesitation, I leaned my forehead against the cool, hard surface. Reason told me I shouldn't be here. Something stronger than all logic and reason insisted that not only should I be here, but I may even _belong_ here. With her. I picked the lock and entered the apartment.

It was dark and familiar. A rhythmic squeaking cut through the silence, and I walked over to the small habitat on the counter. Stephanie's pet hamster, Rex, was running on his wheel.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" I whispered. He paused to glance up at me before deciding to return to his exercise routine. Guess protector Rex decided I wasn't a danger to his owner. If he only knew the truth.

I pulled off the sweatshirt and drank some of the water before heading towards the bedroom. I gently pushed the door open and took a seat in the chair at the foot of the bed. She sighed in her sleep and for half a second, the world simply stopped turning.

Watching her sleep made every troubling thought seem to evaporate into thin air. She was safe. And I could finally relax. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. My breathing patterns deepened and my heartrate slowed. Despite my best efforts not to, I felt myself start nodding off.

Suddenly I heard the bedside lamp click on, and I quickly pulled myself out of my groggy half-sleep. Stephanie looked at me from the bed with a raised eyebrow.

"Were you just sleeping in my chair?" she asked, clearly astonished.

I debated my response. "I may have nodded off."

She thought for a minute. "Shouldn't you be at your home in bed then?"

"Theoretically."

"So you're here because…" She waited for me to fill in the blanks. There was a long pause of silence.

"I couldn't sleep," I answered honestly.

She narrowed her eyes a little in an attempt to draw more out of me. The tactic didn't work. I stood up and started heading for the door.

She heaved a heavy sigh. "Ranger, wait. I've got a busy day tomorrow, and I really need some sleep. But," she paused, "as long as there aren't any appearances from the big bad wolf…you can stay." She watched me as I debated what to do next. "Besides, I'm not so sure it's safe for you to be out driving the roads when you're like this."

I shook my head slightly. I decided I'd tell her about the marathon jog in the morning.

She clicked off the bedside lamp as I pulled my shirt over my head. I slid into the bed next to her. Her presence was comforting and intoxicating all at the same time. Without even thinking, I reached for her and pulled her closer to me. Her body tensed slightly as she waited to see what was next on my agenda. She had apparently been expecting a visit from the big bad wolf. I was almost too exhausted to notice the subtle shiver of desire that rushed through her. By the time her body relaxed against mine, I was out like a light.

The next morning I opened my eyes to an uncharacteristically bright room. The sun was already up. My best guess was that it was probably sometime after eight. And I was alone in the bed.

I pulled on my clothes and walked out to the kitchen where I could smell some freshly brewed coffee. Stephanie was sitting at the table doing something on her computer. She glanced up when she saw me.

"You take some kind of sleeping pill last night, sleeping beauty?" she asked.

I poured myself a cup of coffee before joining her at the table. "I try to avoid taking pills."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course…"

I took a slow sip. "Sorry about last night. I meant to leave before…" I stopped. "I probably overdid it with the running."

She snorted back a laugh. "Yeah. _You_ overdoing it with running. That's a good one."

I twitched a small smile. It amused me that she thought I was somehow super human. "You see my car outside this morning?"

She gave me a look then went and pulled the curtains back from the window to peak out. "You took a cab last night?" She paused. "Oh my gosh! You weren't drunk, were you?"

I shook my head. "I needed to sort through some thoughts. So I went for a jog."

"A jog," she repeated. "To my place? From where?"

I gave her a "think about it" look.

"You jogged _here_ from _Rangeman_? In the middle of the night? Are you insane?"

"I had more to work through than I thought."

"Apparently." She came and sat down at the table again. "No wonder you passed out in the chair. I probably would have passed out by the time I made it to the garage."

"Babe."

"You're right. There's no way I would have started running in the first place."

We sat quietly as we finished our coffee. She was sneaking glances over at me. Then she wrapped one of her hands around mine.

"Were you able to sort through any of those thoughts?" Her expression was sincere, and I knew she was concerned about whatever was troubling me.

"Don't worry about it," I said bringing her hand to my lips. "The world always looks a little brighter after a decent night's sleep." Or anytime I was near her. I looked directly into her eyes. "Thanks for that."

There was a brief flutter of panic before she broke the eye contact by glancing at the clock on the wall. "I should probably get going soon. You need a ride back to headquarters?" She grabbed the empty coffee mugs and put them in the sink. "Or were you planning on sorting through more thoughts this morning?"

I gave her a look. "Smartass."

"Hey, at least I'm not the one running marathons at midnight."

I got up and grabbed my sweatshirt from the couch. "You mentioned a busy day today. Anything you need help with?" I wasn't really sure why I was offering. I had a pretty busy day of my own.

"Two skips on the loose, and I kind of agreed to help Mary Lou with her kids tonight. She's in a bind because her regular babysitter's got mono." She looked over at me with a funny expression. "I think I've got the skip situation under control, but I wouldn't say no to help with the kids. I'll be outnumbered and kind of out of my league. They're all boys."

I shook my head. "Not a good idea, babe. My idea of babysitting is ordering a pizza, tossing it on the floor, and coming back in a few hours once the carnage has settled and everyone's passed out."

She made a face. "Liar."

I shrugged trying not to smile.

She pulled out her phone. "Don't make me call Celia."

I walked over to her and pinned her up against the wall. She squeaked a little in surprise before I leaned in and kissed her. Then she melted. I took the moment of distraction to wrangle the phone from her fingers.

She pushed back against my shoulders and narrowed her eyes a little. "No fair. You don't play by the…"

I kissed her again. She had an adorably dopey grin and slightly glazed eyes when I pulled away. Mission accomplished.

"I can't remember what I was trying to say," she said a little breathlessly.

"Probably not important." I grinned.

She rolled her eyes after coming out of her just-been-kissed stupor. "So that's a no with the kids?"

"Not my specialty, babe."

She followed me out of the apartment and locked the door. We made our way out to the parking lot and hopped in her car. Something felt off, so I did a quick scan of the lot. Nothing seemed particularly out of place. No suspicious cars, no suspicious faces.

Stephanie looked over at me. "Everything ok?" she asked.

I gave a slight nod. "Yeah. Sorry. Everything's fine." Except in the back of my mind, I knew that it wasn't.


	4. Chapter 4

I sat in my office surrounded by stacks of paperwork. New clients, modification approvals, software prototypes. All good signs of the business's overall health and success. I felt a brief moment of pride.

It had all started as a silly idea. A quick thought here and there of a business model that I wasn't entirely sure would even take off. The initial base team had been small and made up of individuals of dubious origin. I'd handpicked them all myself.

Our initial clientele was probably a little less than ideal, but as our reputation expanded, so did our list of more reputable customers. As the years passed, the company had somehow grown from a rough and inexperienced teenager into a smooth and respectable adult. It was an external display of the growth that had taken place on the inside. Through discipline and hard work, my men and I had become the successful businessmen I'd always imagined.

Of course that was only part of my life. The other part was the work I completed off the records. It was part of the darkness that never fully disappeared from my eyes. The darkness that scared her, and the darkness I would go to any length to protect her from. I suppose everyone has a few skeletons in their closets, but my skeletons were more like ghosts; they still haunted me.

A knock on my door interrupted my moment of silent reflection. It was my second-in-command, Tank.

He made a face. "You look like shit."

I narrowed my eyes at him wondering if I should punish the remark. I dismissed the thought and decided to classify this conversation as one amongst friends rather than employees.

"Rough night," I confessed.

"And a late morning," he added with a twitch of a grin. "You go see her last night?"

I nodded. "But it's not what you think."

He laughed then tried to pass it off as a cough. "I'll bet."

Tank was one of the few people who knew how I really felt about Stephanie. I trusted him with the company, my life, and apparently with matters of the heart. He was like a brother. Apparently that included the childish teasing.

"Now wipe that smug grin off your face," I growled, "or I'll give you a shift you won't like."

He shrugged. "You'll do that anyway."

"Valid point. Then I'll kick your ass in the gym."

"Seriously? You look like you could barely fend off the rookie right now."

I sighed in resignation. "Fine. Then stop because I said so. And I'm the boss."

He grinned. "That's more like it." He grabbed a few folders off the desk then paused before heading out the door. "You got a call on the secure line this morning. I think they want you for another classified mission."

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. "I think I'm getting too old for this shit."

Tank looked at me with a slight edge of concern. "I don't think your age is the problem." He paused. "I think your heart's not really in it anymore. Maybe it's time to consider retirement. Just something to think about."

I watched him head for the door again. "What if it's too late for me?" I asked hesitantly.

He paused in the doorway and considered his response. "I'd like to think that it's never too late for any of us." He let the statement sink in a little before adding "she holds on to that hope too, you know?"

He left before I had a chance to respond.

The day continued with little excitement, and I was just taking a final walkthrough of the control room when I heard my phone buzz with the arrival of a text. It was Stephanie.

"Being ambushed," it said. "Need help ASAP."

My heart froze in my chest. I quickly pulled up her location and raced down the stairs to the garage. Images from my nightmares flashed through my mind as I peeled out onto the main road. I revved the engine and said a silent prayer that this wasn't the one time I was going to be too late.

A few minutes later I screeched to a halt in front of a house in a quiet residential neighborhood. It didn't look like the scene of a crime, but sometimes the dangerous ones used the cute homes as a clever cover. I drew my weapon and stalked up to the front of the house.

I peered in the windows looking for movement. The lights were off except for some intermittent flashes from the TV. No sign of Stephanie or any hostile skips. I decided to head around back to continue my surveillance.

Just as I was reaching over to unlatch the fence, I sensed someone coming up behind me. I whipped around just in time to watch Stephanie collide into my chest.

"They're after me!" she squealed as she scrambled back to her feet.

I quickly pushed her behind me and aimed my gun toward the sound of approaching footsteps.

She immediately shoved my arm down. "What the hell are you doing?" she gasped. "You can't pull a gun on the kids?"

"What?" I asked as I tucked the gun away just before three smiling boys bounded around the corner of the house. I slowly exhaled the breath I'd been holding.

All three pulled water guns from behind their backs. "Prepare to meet your doom, Aunt Stephanie!" the tallest one shouted before emptying the contents of his gun all over the two of us. I just stood there. Wet and confused.

"Care to explain, babe?" I asked through clenched teeth.

She chuckled. "It was either this or cops and robbers. They threatened to tie me to a chair and drag me through the house. This seemed like the lesser of the two evils."

The youngest boy poked the barrel of his water gun into my chest. "And just who do you think you are?" he asked menacingly. I looked down at him and narrowed my eyes. He didn't flinch.

I turned and looked at Steph. "Makings of a future Rangeman recruit."

She shook her head. "His mother would kill me."

"You didn't answer my question," the kid growled. He gave me a warning spray to indicate the seriousness of the interrogation.

"Don't be rude," Steph said pulling the gun from his hands. "This is Ranger. He's a friend."

"What kind of name is _Ranger?_ Sounds like an action figure," the oldest one snickered. The boys all burst into a round of laughter. I twitched a smile in spite of myself. No wonder Steph had called for backup.

Once the laughter had died down a little, Stephanie grabbed the guns and ushered the boys inside. I followed a few paces behind. It was a relief that she wasn't in any real danger, but I didn't like how quickly I'd jumped to conclusions. My fears were really starting to mess with me, and that wasn't good for anybody. Maybe the classified mission would be a good chance for me to clear my head.

"Yo, Ranger!" one of the boys called. "You any good at soccer? Aunt Steph says we can kick the ball around out back while she gets dinner ready."

I gave her a look as I walked past her to the back door. "I'm not sure I should leave you alone in the kitchen. Is this house insured against unnatural disasters?"

She narrowed her eyes a little before shrugging her shoulders. "It's a take and bake pizza. How hard can it be?"

Forty-five minutes later we were eating Chinese takeout in the living room; the faint smell of burnt pizza still lingered in the air. The boys ate the bulk of it like half-starved, ravenous monsters. Stephanie frowned as she peered into the empty box that used to be the eggrolls.

"Alright, who ate the last eggroll? I totally called dibs on it."

"Ya snooze, ya lose," the oldest crooned haughtily before burping.

I twitched a small smile before handing her mine. "Go on. Eat it. I'm full."

She gave me a look before taking a bite.

The middle boy who hadn't said a whole lot during the evening interrupted the dinner silence with a question. "Are you Aunt Steph's boyfriend?" he asked looking over at me.

Stephanie said "no" and I said "yes" simultaneously. It kind of just slipped out. All eyes were suddenly focused on me, Stephanie's included.

Before I had a chance to offer an explanation, the youngest boy cut in. "That's what Mom calls a 'difference of opinion.' Maybe you two should go up to the bedroom and settle it like Mom and Dad do."

Stephanie sputtered and nearly choked on a bite of eggroll while simultaneously turning beet red. I thought I was going to combust from withholding a laugh. This evening was quickly becoming one for the books.

After some negotiating, begging, and eventually threatening, we finally convinced all three boys to go to bed. Stephanie sighed walking out to the living room as she took in the state of the house. It looked like a war zone.

I started grabbing the empty takeout boxes to toss in the trash. She followed me out into the kitchen.

"So boyfriend, huh?" she asked casually.

I froze mid process. I knew that was going to come back and bite me in the ass.

"No need to panic, Rambo," she continued. "I know what you meant."

How could she possibly? I didn't even know what the hell I meant! It just slipped out. Things like that _never_ just slipped out. I wanted to blame it on sleep deprivation, but I had a feeling there was probably more to it than that. With her, there was _always_ more to it.

"This was all very…interesting," I said trying to change the subject.

She smirked as she headed back out to the living room. ""What, Julie never ambushed you with water guns like that?"

To be honest, I didn't spend enough time with Julie to know. She lived in Florida with her mom, and Rachel didn't exactly insist on me spending a whole lot of time with her. Probably thought I'd be a bad influence or something. She was probably right.

"Not with the intensity of preadolescent boys." I shook my head. "How does Mary Lou do it?"

"She's got good Burg housewife genes." Stephanie sighed while readjusting the couch cushions. "A _real_ Wonder Woman." I noticed a fleeting wistful look in her eyes. I caught her arm and pulled her over to me.

"Maybe _a_ wonder woman but not _the_ Wonder Woman. That one's all you, babe." She stared at me a moment seemingly searching for something in my expression. Whatever it was, she apparently didn't find it because the next thing I knew there was a barely audible sigh as she started turning away. I pulled her back and kissed her. At the very least, she needed to know that she was _my_ Wonder Woman.

She jumped when we both heard the front door unlock and open. Mary Lou walked in with her husband. She smirked a little when she saw us standing in the living room.

"We interrupt you two making out like teenagers?"

Stephanie gave her a wry smile. "Everyone knows you do that on the couch in the basement. Ranger was just giving me an innocent goodnight kiss."

"Didn't look all that innocent to me." Mary Lou clicked her tongue playfully. "Besides, I thought I told you no boys while you're on duty."

"What are you, my mom?" The girls laughed before hugging. I gave Mary Lou's husband a slight head nod of recognition. He looked unfazed by the girly antics.

Steph kissed her friend on the cheek before coming back and grabbing my hand. "We'll leave you two before things get too awkward for the men. Sorry about the mess!" Steph hollered over her shoulder as we headed out the door.

"I think I'll claim tonight as a success," she said as she headed for her car. I followed and trapped her between my arms against her door. "Something else to say?" she asked playfully, "or is it time for another innocent goodnight kiss?"

I wanted to kiss her and do other things that were anything but innocent, but I had a feeling Mary Lou was probably watching us from one of the windows. "How about we continue this conversation back at your place?"

She gave a slight frown. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Please?" The plea sounded pitiful. Even to me. It was almost like I was begging. She'd reduced me to begging.

"Feeling a little desperate, Batman?"

"I'm going out of town." I knew it was the wrong response even before I said it.

"Another off-the-records mission?"

"Yes." I knew any chance I'd had at a good night's sleep was now gone. All emotion left her face, positive or otherwise.

"Goodnight, Ranger," she said sliding into her car.

"Goodnight, babe," I said mostly to myself as she drove off down the road.


	5. Chapter 5

I took the long way back and just sat in the car when I finally pulled into the garage. Part of me wanted to chase after her, wanted to be Richard Gere climbing the fire escape with flowers to apologize for…well, I wasn't entirely sure what. The switch had flipped so suddenly I didn't know if it was the mission she was mad about or the goodnight kiss or something else entirely. Maybe I'd missed a signal earlier and all of it had to do with the stupid boyfriend remark.

I stuck the key in the ignition three times before I decided I could never be Richard Gere. Didn't _really_ want to be him anyway. I just wanted Stephanie. And I knew I couldn't have her.

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor, and I decided to swing by my office. If I wasn't destined for sleep, then maybe I could make the most of it and be productive. After all, that stack of paperwork wasn't going to sort itself.

The floor was mostly dead save for a few after-hours employees, so I was slightly surprised to see my door standing ajar. Someone was waiting for me in my office. I hesitantly pushed the door open with a pretty good idea of who would be waiting for me on the other side.

A splay of soft, brown curls covered my desk. Stephanie was asleep in my chair. I shook my head and smiled before gently tapping her on the shoulder. She barely stirred.

"So tired," she mumbled.

I brushed some stray curls away from her face. "Want me to take you home?"

"Mmm."

I leaned in to scoop her up and her eyes fluttered open.

"I need to talk to you," she said followed by a yawn.

"Why here in the office?" I asked before setting her back in the chair.

"Safer." She rubbed her eyes and stretched. "Thought it might be easier to stay awake in a chair as opposed to on a couch or in a bed."

"Babe."

"I think I could have stayed awake too if someone hadn't taken…" She glanced at the clock on my desk. "Over an hour to get back here. Did you jog back?"

I shook my head. "Didn't see your car in the garage," I noted trying to change the subject.

"I think my car's battery is on the fritz. It wouldn't start when I went to leave the apartment, so I decided to take a cab."

"Sounds like reaching the destination was pretty important."

"Mmm." She thought for a moment while playing with a pen. "I'm not mad about the mission," she stated bluntly.

I took a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk and let her continue.

"It was just…confusing."

"Confusing." I had no idea where she was going with this.

"Yes. You showing up last night looking all exhausted and out of sorts. The marathon jog. All the thoughts you needed to work through. Then you mentioned the mission and wanting to come over, and I got one of those weird sinking feelings."

I wasn't sure if now was the time to try and explain some of the bad feelings I'd been having lately. Not to mention the nightmares. Except I never wanted to tell her about the nightmares.

She stared at the desk. "I was worried you were trying to tell me something. Like maybe you were thinking of a way to say goodbye. This mission is different from the others, isn't it?'

It was astonishing. She'd noticed the signs of my distress and assumed they were work related. I wasn't even sure how to respond.

"The mission's the same as all the others."

She gave me a look. "Dangerous?"

"To a certain extent." She didn't look pleased with the answer.

"But you're planning on returning?"

The uncertainty in her voice made my breath catch. I went over and pulled her onto her feet, wrapping her in my arms. "I've got a few very good reasons to come back." I leaned down to kiss her, but she surprised me by pulling back.

"Like the company," she said, her eyes bright and playful. I decided to join in on the game.

"Can't imagine life without this place." I brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck.

"And Ella," she continued. I kissed her collar bone as I sat her on the desk.

"Who else would the poor woman cook for?"

"Maybe someone who actually ate dessert on occasion."

I pulled back a moment and looked at her. "Babe." Stephanie was my dessert. I tugged at her sleeve and leaned down to kiss her bare shoulder.

She sighed contentedly before hopping off the desk. "I know the real reason you always come back," she added quietly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He's some six feet of solid muscle, and he mourns your absence like a cute puppy dog when you're away. There's no use hiding the relationship. I know how you _really_ feel about…Tank."

I gave her a look before shrugging my shoulders. "I guess you know everything then."

She grinned as she started back toward the elevator. " _Almost_ everything. I don't know what floor to send the elevator to. I seem to remember someone offering to take me home. But that could have just been my imagination."

"Definitely your imagination." I used my keycard for the seventh floor.

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you needed sleep."

"I do. I hear there's a great remedy for that. Something having to do with a lot of physical exertion and the release of some pretty intense endorphins."

"I'm not going running with you, Ranger," she said with a coy grin.

The elevator stopped. "That's not exactly what I had in mind, babe," I said before scooping her up and carrying her into the apartment. Eat your heart out Richard Gere.

Several blocks away a man sat in the darkness thumbing through the pages of his notebook. The bug he'd planted in Stephanie's purse had worked like a charm. The man in black was going out of town. It was finally time for Ricardo Carlos Manoso's life to start unravelling. He closed the notebook with a sneer. "You won't survive this, Ranger," he muttered before tucking himself in bed and drifting off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

James Conroy sat flipping through his notes at his desk. He pinched his nose and puffed out a frustrated sigh. The meeting had been nothing short of a disaster. The stories, the notes. It all amounted to nothing.

A soft knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. Of course it was Lisa. "Your mother in town again?" she asked with a hint of a smile. "I haven't seen your brows wrinkled like that since she tried setting you up with that crazy Bitsy woman."

He narrowed his eyes. "Try again. These wrinkles are _your_ fault, missy. The meeting this morning was a complete waste of time."

She flitted around the office straightening a few things before grabbing a stack of paperwork from the desk. "It couldn't have been _that_ bad. The case is pretty interesting."

James gave her a look. "The _case_ may be interesting," he grouched, "but the one and only suspect is about as talkative as my deceased grandmother."

"I heard he wasn't much for talking. You're gonna have to be patient on this one, Jimmy. Play his game. Wait him out."

"I've got better things to do than wait out a murder suspect, Lis." He raised an eyebrow her direction. "What's got you all invested in this case?"

"Curiosity," she said with a flip of her hair.

He tossed her his notebook. She scanned it, quickly flipping through the pages.

"Is this a doodled pair of handcuffs?" she smirked. "You've got some hidden artistic talent."

James grabbed the notebook back from her hands and slumped in his chair. "He told me some stuff about his company, we shot the breeze on some military stories, and then he recounted a specific memory with the girl. Something having to do with babysitting."

"Babysitting?" Lisa made a face. "Maybe he went a little looney tunes after the murder. That kind of stuff does things to you, ya know."

James shook his head. "As strange as the conversation sounds, the man didn't seem looney tunes. He seemed cautious. And very…calculated."

"You think you could've missed something?" Lisa asked.

"I don't know. Maybe." He rubbed his temples. "Why'd you get me roped into this mess, Lis? Is this some kind of payback for that lack of a raise you mentioned earlier?"

She grinned. "The raise wouldn't hurt, ace. But like I said, I didn't go searching for this one. This Ranger guy sought you out. Which is why I have good reason to believe he's going to give you the facts you need. Just be patient."

"Easy for you to say," he muttered.

She hopped up from her chair, grabbed her paperwork, and headed out the door. "Later Jimmy," she called over her shoulder.

He grabbed his notes and flipped through them again. There were a couple things he hadn't bothered to write down from the meeting that were still tumbling around in his mind. The first was Ranger's response when asked point blank if he'd committed the crime. He'd focused his eyes intently on James and said, "Start asking the right questions, and you'll find the answers you're looking for."

The reply was clearly evasive and oddly ominous. How could "Did you do it?" not be the right question? Was he framed? The evidence clearly suggested otherwise. Ranger had been arrested at the scene of the crime, murder weapon in hand. At least that was what had been in the report.

James grabbed the file from his desk that Lisa had put together. He flipped through the pages until he came to the police report. Everything seemed cut and dry. No differences of opinion about what had happened. The girl was already dead when the cops arrived, and from the looks of it, Ranger hadn't resisted arrest. If everything was true, this was probably going to be a quick trial.

He decided to make a call. "No stone unturned," he sighed to himself. The line picked up sooner than he expected.

"This is James Conroy," he stated. "I'd like to set up an interview to go over some things with the arresting officer from the Stephanie Plum case."

There was a pause and what seemed like some hesitation. "I'm sorry, Mr. Conroy. The arresting officer is currently on leave. He…ummm…well, he's not coping very well with… He just needed some time away right now."

"This is kind of important," James continued. "Can I at least get a name? For my notes?"

Another pause. "I tell you what, you said your name was James Conroy, right? I'll make sure the arresting officer knows that you called. I'll let him take it from there."

"I guess that's better than nothing. Thanks for your time." The line disconnected.

This case was about as cut and dry as they came. And somehow it was a complete and utter mess! And thanks to Lisa, James was now in the thick of it. He shot her a death glare through the door. Except he knew it wasn't really her fault. She was too nice for her own good.

He scribbled something on his notepad before slamming it shut. It was the other comment from the meeting that wasn't sitting very well with him. Before he'd left, Ranger had given him a subtle head nod. "Don't forget what your dad always told you," he'd said before the guards ushered him off to his cell.

It probably wasn't coincidence that his dad used a simple catchphrase anytime he'd had a serious chat with anyone. "Keep your chin up, kid," he'd always say before giving him a rough pat on his shoulder. "And watch your back." Somehow James felt Ranger's comment was weighted more towards the second part of that quip of advice. And that couldn't mean anything good.

The next morning James got to his office early. He replied to a few emails before noticing he had some messages waiting on his machine. He clicked the playback button while sipping his morning coffee.

The first message was from a client requesting some signed documents, and the second was from his mother wanting to know if he'd fallen off the face of the earth. He hadn't called in over three weeks. Must have slipped his mind…

The last call was from a voice he didn't recognize. He replayed it to get the name of the caller.

"This message is for James Conroy," the voice stated. "This is Officer Joe Morelli, the arresting officer on the Stephanie Plum case. Sounds like we need to have a talk."

James deleted the messages and sighed. He'd have Lisa clear his schedule for the afternoon. With any luck this "talk" would go better than the one at the prison.


	7. Chapter 7

After a late lunch, James drove towards the residential side of town and pulled into a quiet neighborhood of row houses. They all resembled each other in that cookie-cutter-prototype kind of way, but they weren't without charm. It was the kind of neighborhood everyone eventually wanted to settle down in with quaint yards and nosy neighbors. James wasn't quite at that point in his life yet, but he secretly hoped he someday would be.

He pulled up to one of the houses with a black Explorer parked in the driveway and grabbed a few things from the car before making his way up to the door. It opened before he even had a chance to knock.

"You must be James Conroy," a gruff voice stated before offering a hand in standard greeting.

James just stood staring. He couldn't help himself. The man in front of him was a mess. Bloodshot eyes, scraggily beard, and hair that was long overdue for a cut. His t-shirt was faded and stained with motor oil and car grease-and maybe some old tomato sauce. His jeans were washed out with a ratty hole in the knee, and he walked around in worn slippers that had obviously seen better days. The overall effect was nothing short of yikes!

"Sorry about the mess. I've been working on my bike in the garage."

"Oh," was all that James could think to reply. He shook his hand hesitantly as he was ushered inside.

Given the look of its tenant, James was relieved to find the house surprisingly clean. There were a few empty pizza boxes and beer cans lying around, but the floors were swept and the dirty dishes weren't overrunning the kitchen. James was so distracted by the state of the house that he almost tripped over a giant mound of furry orange sprawled across the floor. It rumbled in response.

"Good lord! What the hell is that?"

Morelli glanced back. "Oh. That's Bob."

James nodded as if the reply explained everything. "Is Bob a lumpy area rug? Or a taxidermy experiment gone wrong?"

"Bob's my dog. At least I'm pretty sure he's a dog. He used to tear around this place like a furry tornado eating everything in sight. Now he mostly just sleeps."

"Sounds nice."

"Tell me about it."

They went and sat on a couch in the living room.

"Want a beer?" Morelli asked.

"I think I'll pass, but thanks anyway." James was a little worried beer might begin a slippery slope toward social hour rather than constructive conversation. It wasn't a risk he wanted to take.

Morelli leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "The station called and said you wanted to set up an interview with me. You're looking into the Plum case?"

"That's right. I was contacted by Mr. Manoso, so I've been doing some research. Being the arresting officer, you were at the top of my list of people to talk to."

"Ah, Ranger. How's the man of mystery holding up these days? Hopefully he looks like shit."

James eyed him suspiciously. "You have something against Manoso?"

"Hell yes! The bastard murdered someone I cared about! How would you feel about someone like that?"

"You had a thing for Ms. Plum?" He paused. "Were you seeing each other?"

"We dated a while back." Morelli got a faraway look in his eyes then got up from the couch. "I think I'm gonna need that beer. Sure you don't want one?"

James frowned. Great, now he was going to have to deal with drunken answers and memories. "Would you mind if we had this conversation first?"

Morelli gave him a look. "Listen Conroy, I need hard liquor just to get through my therapy sessions. Let me have the beer."

James sighed in resignation. "Fine. As long as we can continue this conversation."

The refrigerator opened and closed, and Morelli made his way back to the couch. "Sorry," he said after a sip. "I guess I'm still pretty edgy about everything. Part of the reason I'm currently on leave."

James nodded in understanding. "The police report said you were one of the first people on the scene."

Morelli leaned back. "Yep," he said with an added emphasis on the "p."

"It said Manoso had the weapon in hand, and," he stopped. "And the girl was already dead."

"It was a nightmare," Morelli added hoarsely, emotion suddenly flooding his voice. "Blood everywhere. I threw up almost the moment I walked inside. And I've been around that shit a lot. Guess it's a little different when you know the victim." He drank more of his beer.

James suddenly felt guilty for dredging up such disturbing and emotional memories. He couldn't imagine having to deal with something so horrific.

"I know you've already given your statement, but was there anyone else there? Maybe someone who could've made it out before you showed up?"

"We did a quick walkthrough to secure the building. Not another living soul to be found. It was just Manoso, standing over her body like the f-ing grim reaper."

James jotted some things on his note pad. "The report said he didn't resist arrest."

Morelli drained his beer. "You sound surprised."

"I've been doing this for a while. When I had the meeting at the prison, I wasn't so sure I was talking to a killer."

Morelli gave a slurred laugh. "Don't let one conversation fool you. The man's an f-ing chameleon. Don't you ever forget that while you're poking around this case. Manoso will make you think exactly what he wants you to think. He knows precisely what he's doing."

James closed his notebook. "You're convinced he killed her?"

Morelli stared up at the ceiling. "I think there's a very good reason why he's in prison."

They both got up from the couch. Apparently the interview was over.

"You know," Morelli added once they'd made it back to the door. "There's another police report you might find interesting." He handed James a small piece of paper. "Stephanie Plum was always getting herself into trouble," he said with a slight shake of his head. "But sometimes it wasn't entirely her fault."

James glanced at the piece of paper. "You think this is important to the case?"

Morelli shrugged. "That's for you to figure out, Conroy. I'm still on leave."

James shook his hand again. "Thanks for your time."

"Good luck. And tell Manoso the next time you see him that he can go to hell."

James made it back to his car and slid into the driver's seat. The little piece of paper may have saved the interview from being another complete waste of time. But more likely than not, it was going to be nothing more than a big wild goose chase.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, Lis," James said leaving her a message as he drove back to the office. "I'm kind of swamped with my other cases this afternoon, so I have a huge favor to ask. I need you to swing by the Trenton PD to pick up a police report for me. The cop thought I should give it a look. If you're feeling particularly ambitious, you can even read through it and give me a synopsis this evening. It would be a huge help. I'll text you the details. Thanks." He ended the call.

James glanced at the file laying on his passenger seat. There hadn't been any mention of extra police reports related to the murder investigation. In fact, the cop hadn't specifically said this report _was_ related. He just said it was something that might be worth looking into.

As he eased into some heavy traffic, James let out a sigh. He had a full afternoon/evening ahead of him sorting out court schedules along with organizing details for one of his clients that was going to trial at the end of the week. With any luck, Lisa would have the police report picked apart by dinner, and the evidence would provide a surprising alternate murder suspect for the Plum case. Or at least something moving in that general direction. One could hope.

James was still sorting through his trial notes when Lisa poked her head in his office several hours later. She had a bag of Chinese takeout in one hand and a manila file folder in the other.

"You eat yet?" she asked taking a seat in one of his oversized client chairs.

"Nope. Your timing is perfect as usual. I was just contemplating the nutritional value of paper consumption before you walked in."

Lisa laughed. "Glad I made it in time." She proceeded to unpack the food, the intoxicating aromas quickly filling the room.

James grabbed a pair of chopsticks and an open box of fried rice. He dove in with the reckless abandon of a half-starved teenager. Once there was a sizable dent in the dinner faire, he decided to bring up the manila file.

"That the police report I wanted you to pick up?" he asked after wiping his mouth on a napkin.

Lisa slurped up a lo mein noodle. "Yeah, sorry. I almost forgot." She stood and handed him the folder before clearing away some of the empty takeout boxes.

"So what's the deal with the report? Any hint of another suspect?"

Lisa frowned. "Actually there wasn't much to it. It was an abduction situation. The victim was found seemingly unharmed, and the case was closed shortly afterwards. No arrests were made. From the write-up, it kind of sounded like more of a misunderstanding. Seems like a dead end, if you ask me."

James slammed the folder on the desk before running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Shit."

She raised an eyebrow. "Somehow I knew you were going to say that."

"Sorry. I just don't know what I'm doing with this case. Ranger says I need to be asking the right questions." He absentmindedly flipped through the pages of his notepad. "Got any idea what those might be?"

"Well," Lisa started. "I guess we've already got the who, the what, the when, the where, and the how. The only question left to ask, I guess, is the why?"

The why, huh? In his mind, there were two why's that needed to be answered. "Why did he kill her or why was she the victim?" he asked.

"Maybe both are important."

James mused on the thought for a moment. "I've got court this week, so I'm not going to have a ton of extra time to work on the Plum conundrum. Think you can arrange another meeting at the prison sometime the week after next?"

Lisa nodded. "Consider it already done."

By the end of the two weeks, James was feeling a little better about life. The trial had gone well, and he'd been so busy using it as a distraction, that he hadn't had time to dwell on the lack of details for the Plum case. His good mood was so intoxicating that he almost considered dropping the case altogether.

So what if Ranger thought he could trust him? It wasn't like he owed him anything. Hell, he barely even knew the guy! Big deal his dad had been an old army buddy. It didn't mean he could suddenly pull miracles out his ass. For all intents and purposes, Ranger was a cold-blooded killer. And he seemed more interested in playing a Sherlock-y who-done-it rather than providing vital information that might save him from a future on death row.

James bought another donut on his way to the prison. He'd give Ranger one more chance to make a good impression. If he left with nothing but questions again, he decided it was time to cut this case loose. Someone else could handle the crazy mess.

He flashed his badge at the gate and pulled into a parking space. The prison looked even bleaker than usual. It probably had to do with the ominous storm clouds looming in the distance. The gray atmosphere only intensified the surrounding dreariness.

After making it through the routine security checks that were just a hair less invasive than a colonoscopy, James was led down a corridor to the windowed visitation room. Ranger was back in the corner cubicle. He had a new bruise along his cheekbone and a fat upper lip.

"What's with the new look?" James asked raising an eyebrow.

Ranger's eyes looked distant and maybe a little scarier than usual. "Altercation," he said with a hint of a shrug.

"You have those frequently here?"

"Try to avoid them, actually. But it can be a bit of a challenge considering I'm partially responsible for putting a lot of these guys behind bars. Doesn't exactly make me the most popular guy on the cell block, if you know what I mean."

"You don't say."

Ranger shifted his weight. "You got new questions for me today, Conroy?"

"I had a chat with the arresting officer."

This seemed to pique Ranger's interest a little. "Learn anything interesting?"

"I'm afraid you're going to have to answer that question for me. Officer Morelli didn't give me a whole lot of info that I didn't already know. Just pointed me in the direction of this police report he thought might be useful. What do you know about this abduction situation?"

Ranger thought for a moment before steepling his fingers and leaning forward. "Which one?"

"There were multiple?"

"Her parents called in the second one. The one you have the report on. The first abduction happened several months before that."

James pulled out his notepad. "How about we cut the shit and you tell me everything you know about both?"

"Deal."


	9. Chapter 9

_Ranger's POV_

I'd spent the night in a tangled mess of sweaty sheets and unruly brown curls. What followed was the best sleep I'd had in weeks. And already I was starting to feel some minor pangs of regret. It would be difficult to maintain any kind of focus on the away mission with those moans and sighs still echoing in my mind. Maybe Tank was right. Retirement was sounding better and better by the minute.

I came awake early and watched the color of the curtains slowly brighten against the windows; it was the beginning of another day. As the shadows changed in the room, I became absorbed in the deep breathing patterns coming from the beautiful woman sleeping next to me. I stroked some loose strands of hair before deciding it was probably time to shower and head downstairs. A small sigh escaped her lips and suddenly all the emails and phone calls could wait. At least for now.

I moved closer and draped a protective arm over her. She curled into me like a cat, moving her body against me in all the right places. I brushed my lips across her bare shoulder. Another sigh escaped her lips, and I knew I was going to be extra late for work.

There was a small knock on my office door several hours later, and Stephanie walked in looking vibrant and beautiful. Her brilliant blue eyes did a very slow body scan from across the room. I twitched a small smile.

"See something you like, babe?"

She grinned. "Maybe."

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a spare set of keys. I tossed them over to her. "You can borrow a fleet car until you get yours fixed." Actually she could borrow the car indefinitely, but I knew she'd never accept it in those terms. She liked being independent.

"Thanks." She looked away, and a small frown appeared on her face. I knew the mission was on her mind. "When do you leave?" she asked hesitantly.

"Tank's dropping me off at the airport early tomorrow morning." I wasn't sure what else to say. Goodbyes weren't exactly my forte.

Stephanie walked over to me and brushed a soft kiss across my lips. "Don't stay away too long," she whispered seductively. "Or I might forget all the things I like about you."

I wrapped my arms around her waist and looked into her eyes. "Such as?"

There was a heavy sigh. "Everything." She untangled herself from my arms and made her way back to the door. She paused just before she left. "Stay safe, Ranger."

"You too, babe."

Then she was gone.

Of course, the mission took longer than expected. They always did. What had initially started out as a simple recovery op somehow morphed into one of those scenes from Mission Impossible. We even took two extra weeks for recon, and the mission was still nothing short of a disaster. Probably would have been a _complete_ disaster if not for some quick thinking skills from my team. That's why we get paid the big bucks. To overcome impossible odds and save the freaking day.

Once the target had been apprehended and the mission was ruled an overall success, I took the next available flight back to the states. Once I landed, my phone started going crazy with a number of missed calls and texts. It wasn't completely abnormal, so I decided to ignore them until I'd arranged my next flight back to Jersey. I was anxious to get home.

I had just finished checking my bags when my phone rang. It was a call from Rangeman; I decided to take it.

"Yo," I answered already starting to get one of those bad feelings in the pit of my stomach.

"Ranger, we've got a situation here."

I held my breath for a moment. "Give me the details."

"It's Stephanie. We can't seem to find her."

I listened quietly as one of the men filled me in on the situation. Stephanie's trackers had last shown her entering her apartment sometime in the early evening two nights ago. The signal had continued to report her position from inside the building, so no one had suspected any foul play until the following morning when the trackers didn't move from that location. Hours passed with no sign of movement, but the team had assumed she was probably taking a leisurely morning. After all, Stephanie operated on her own unique schedule.

The morning shifted into the afternoon, and there was still no change in position, so Bobby tried giving her a call on her cell. It went straight to voicemail. They let some additional time pass before sending a car to check on things at the apartment. No one answered when they knocked on the door. There weren't any signs of forced entry, but everyone was horrified when they did a walkthrough of the place and found a pile of trackers sitting on her bed next to her phone. No apparent sign of a scuffle, and Stephanie was nowhere to be found.

I let the part sink in about the pile of trackers on the bed. Stephanie wasn't always thrilled about my methods in place to keep her safe, but she understood their importance. It wasn't super likely that she'd gone rogue and ditched the trackers. However, the alternative made my heart stop momentarily. Someone else knew about them, and Stephanie was missing. I took a few deep breaths.

"My flight leaves here shortly. I should be back in Jersey in a few hours. Start going through the surveillance footage, and keep me posted on your progress." I hated not being at Rangeman, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I took a few more cleansing breaths and tried to channel positive thoughts for Stephanie.

"Don't worry, babe," I whispered. "We'll find you. Just hang in there."

My flight landed, and I met Tank in the terminal. "Any updates?" I asked.

Tank shook his head. "There's not much to go on. She was there at her place and then she wasn't. You think maybe she was trying to bring in a magician, and they Houdini'd her out of the apartment?"

I narrowed my eyes. This wasn't a time for humor. "I don't know what I think," I replied rubbing my eyes. I glanced at my watch. I'd been awake for over forty hours, and the sleep deprivation was starting to catch up with me.

Tank grabbed my bags. "How about you rest on the drive back. You're no good to her if you're falling asleep on the job."

I gave him a look before deciding he was probably right. It was already getting late by the time Tank pulled into the garage. And my "rest" time hadn't been very productive. I was too worried about Stephanie to sleep.

The control room was buzzing with action, but there weren't any new leads on her location. I watched through the apartment security footage myself looking for anything and everything that might have been out of place. I slammed my fist down on the desk in frustration. Nothing. Where the hell was she?

I grabbed a cup of coffee and paced around waiting for someone to find a lead to follow. Tank was eyeing me from across the room. If I wasn't his superior, there was no doubt in my mind that he would have ordered me off the floor. I wasn't helping anything, and I knew it.

Suddenly Lester's phone rang, and I watched as he answered it. His eyes grew wide and he frantically waved me over. "It's her," he mouthed. He put the call on speaker.

There was a frantic edge to Stephanie's voice, but she seemed to be coherent and thinking clearly.

"Les? Oh, thank God! I was so panicky that I couldn't think of the right numbers to dial. Then I remembered that stupid jingle thing you do with your number to help the ladies remember." Lester cringed. "That whole '463 shut up and kiss me; 8852 I think I'm in love with you.' I think that saved my life."

Everyone was eyeing Lester. He shrugged.

"Where are you, beautiful? You've got a control room full of some very worried guys."

"You don't want to know. Just run a trace on the call and come find me, please!" she pleaded. "I'm not sure how much longer I've got left."

Lester made a face. "What do you mean, beautiful? Where the hell are you?"

Her breathing started becoming frantic, but somehow she managed to pull out of the panic attack. "I don't know my exact location, but I'm almost 99% sure I'm in a casket."

A casket? My vision started to blur. I glanced at the monitor. The trace was almost complete.

"Hang in there, beautiful. We've almost got your location."

There was a pause. "Hey Les, you think we could keep this little situation just between you, me, and the guys?"

Lester raised an eyebrow then glanced back at me. "Uh…"

"It's just if Ranger ever finds out about this, he'll probably lock me up in a safe house somewhere and throw away the key. Good thing he's out of town, right?"

Lester made a face. "Um, about that, Steph…"

There was some creative swearing on the other end. "He's standing right next to you, isn't he?"

"Uh…"

I took Lester's phone and headed for the garage. "Welcome back, Batman. Couldn't stay away, huh?"

"Babe."

"You figure out where my casket is yet?"

"Looks like you're at a funeral parlor."

There was a huge sigh of relief. She probably thought she was buried six feet under already. Hell, I thought that too until the map came up.

"At least tell me it's one of the good ones. I'd hate to think the sick bastard that did this to me was a cheapskate."

"It's your favorite."

"The one I allegedly blew up? Interesting. You think all this could mean something?"

She was being sarcastic. It was a coping mechanism for her. I on the other hand wasn't in the mood for sarcasm. Someone had gone to great lengths to abduct Stephanie, and as evidence from the phone call, they hadn't wanted her dead…yet. They wanted _me_ to find her. I was in the middle of yet another delusional game. But I wasn't in any mood to play. Whoever was responsible for Stephanie's recent abduction was soon going to find themselves very, very dead.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: This chapter's dedicated to Ybanormlmom. Thanks for the motivation to complete this despite several days of mind-numbing school start up meetings. And thanks to all my other readers too. You guys are the best!_

"Is there any way I can convince you this really isn't that big of a deal?" Stephanie asked while fidgeting in an exam room waiting for a nurse to come and take her blood.

I gave her a look. "Babe, you were locked in a _casket_. And you have no idea how you got there."

She shrugged. "Yeah, but at least whoever did it was nice enough to leave me a phone."

I had a feeling "nice" had nothing to do with it. "A burner phone. Meaning all of this was planned. Doesn't that concern you?"

"Maybe a _little_ ," she conceded pinching her thumb and finger together in a gesture of measurement. If we were measuring _my_ worry, it would probably be somewhere close to the circumference of the earth. The removal of all her trackers still wasn't sitting well with me. Neither was the symbolism of the casket.

The nurse came in and tied the tourniquet on Stephanie's arm. Steph squeezed her eyes shut and looked away while the blood vials were filled. I couldn't help but smile a little. The woman who had been shot at, firebombed, and tossed off a bridge was still scared of needles.

"All done," the nurse said with a reassuring smile. "Want a sucker?"

Stephanie's face lit up a little. "Only if it's red. The red ones are the best."

I shook my head as she hopped up from the chair and grabbed the candy off the counter. After completing a few additional forms, we started making our way back out to my car.

"You're acting awfully chipper for someone who just spent several hours inspecting the inside of a casket."

"I think it's because I probably just had the best sleep of my life. Do you think this is what it _actually_ feels like to get those eight hours they always recommend?"

I spun her around and looked into her eyes. "This isn't a game. You're not taking this situation very seriously."

She tried to narrow her eyes, but the nonchalant façade finally broke and she collapsed into a teary mess against my chest. I felt terrible. My intention hadn't been to make her cry. I just wanted her to be aware of the danger.

"It was awful!" she sobbed. "I opened my eyes to complete darkness, and I thought I was already dead. It took forever for me to figure out where I was, and then the damn thing was locked, and I couldn't get out. I screamed my head off for what felt like _hours_. _Then_ I had like four panic attacks when I realized I could already be buried six feet under somewhere. I've honestly never been so scared in my entire life."

I held her close and contemplated my own fears. The last several hours had been nothing short of a real-life nightmare. One that I had been powerless to prevent. The experience had awakened something dark and terrifying in me, something I knew I didn't want her anywhere near. It was strange to have the opposing forces of wanting her close and as far away from me as possible working simultaneously. Definitely something I'd have to come to terms with later.

She brushed some tears away, and I felt her body start to relax against mine. It was like the storm had finally passed and she was already looking ahead to clearer skies. I'd always found it impressive how quickly she could recover from these crazy situations. Underneath her seemingly soft and feminine exterior was an extraordinarily resilient heart and mind. Given the right amount of time, I was sure she could overcome just about anything. It was one of the many things that I admired and loved about her.

"Do you need anything?" I asked, my arms still wrapped tightly around her.

"Ironically, I think I need to sleep." She glanced up at me. "Maybe in an open field or something to counter that confined, claustrophobic feeling of the casket."

I raised an eyebrow. "An open field, huh?"

"You have something better in mind?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of the secure bedroom on the seventh floor of my building."

She thought for a moment seemingly weighing her options. "Throw in a bag of donuts, some ice cream, and a hot Bulgari-infused shower, and you've got yourself a deal."

I leaned down and kissed her. "Deal."

She smacked her head with her hand as I held the passenger door open for her. "Wait, I still get to leave whenever I want, right?"

"I don't recall that being part of the arrangement." I was being sneaky, and I knew it. Steph _hated_ it when she was in lockdown. It was like pulling teeth to get her to stay put in a safe location. Nothing short of a gun being held to her head was going to convince her she needed to lay low for a while.

She narrowed her eyes. "You never play fair."

I leaned down and gave her a very seductive kiss. "I promise I'll make it worth your while," I whispered in her ear.

She got a shiver before sliding into the car. "You better," she muttered under her breath. Then there was a small hint of a smile.

I grinned as I walked around to the driver's door. Challenge accepted.

The man watched as the black car pulled away from the hospital. His eyes were dark and assessing. A slow smile spread across his face. Phase one of his plan had been a success.

The predicted value of the girl had been accurate. Manoso had gone straight from the airport to his base of operations, and the timing of the phone call had been near perfect. She had taken longer than expected to make the call, but that part of the plan had always been a little ambiguous; after all, there had been a high number of variables in place. The sedative could have taken longer to ware off, or maybe it had been slightly more challenging than he'd anticipated to reach the phone that had been placed near her feet. He decided it really didn't matter. The overall goal had been achieved.

He took a page from his notebook and tore it away from the others. As he crumpled it into a wadded paper ball, he let out a small sigh. The next phase to destroy the man in black was going to take much more time and research. He read through some of his preliminary notes again before snapping the notebook shut.

He would need to make contact with the technology expert again over the course of the following week. Hacking computer systems was much more challenging than it looked. Especially when the systems were top of the line and state of the art. But as his mother had always taught him, where there was a will, there was always a way. And his will was ironclad when it came to the complete destruction of the man in black.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: As expected, the first week of school has momentarily stalled my momentum with this story. So much for adapting well to a new routine... But do not fear, dear readers, the creative process shall prevail! It just might shift gears into turtle mode for a while. Patience is always appreciated :)_

Weeks passed, and the investigation remained at a standstill. It made me frustrated and edgy, which translated to a lot more time in the gym. I spent the extra hours reflecting on the events that had taken place. There hadn't been any secret notes or ransom calls attached to the casket fiasco. It had been nothing more than an elaborate warning. A warning that I knew meant this was all just the beginning.

From my viewpoint, there were two possible leads to follow. One was the actual abduction of Stephanie that supposedly took place at her apartment. The other was the arrival of the casket at the funeral home. Both situations had the potential to reveal the person behind all of this. And yet both resulted in nothing more than frustrating dead ends.

Whoever had planned all of this knew what he was doing. He'd paid cash for the services he'd arranged over the phone. I did a trace on the calls, but they all routed back to another burner. And the man he'd hired for the abduction was some rough and tumble lowlife strapped for cash. Not exactly a stranger to life in a prison cell. He'd been paid to sneak into Steph's apartment building early in the day and at some point later that evening had given her a shot with a heavy sedative.

I'd interrogated him myself. But it was obvious even after a few minutes that he knew very little about his employer. He'd been given explicit details about where to find the trackers over the phone, and the casket was waiting for him in a vacant lot, cash payment inside. From the lot, he'd followed instructions to deliver the casket to the local funeral home where everything had already been arranged for the arrival of a new floor model that would go on display the following month. The casket was put in storage in the basement, which is where I found Stephanie several hours later.

Many things became clear to me while I continued the investigation. First, my opponent had sufficient cash flow to support the purchase of a high-end casket and the services of an associate who was willing to take the fall for a crime if necessary. Money apparently was not an issue. This was never a good thing.

Second, this guy new how to plan. He remained completely invisible while organizing the whole scheme, and he took every possible precaution to maintain his anonymity. His strategy was seemingly flawless; the work of someone whom I had no doubt had done something similar before.

Last, I realized the timing for all of this had been just a little too perfect. My new adversary had known I was returning to New Jersey. And somehow he'd known that I had been away in the first place. Tank had been wrong about this being a potential skip situation. This had absolutely nothing to do with Stephanie. It obviously had everything to do with me. The thought made my blood chill.

Stephanie reluctantly came back with me to Rangeman that first night after the incident, but I knew there wasn't much I could do to make her stay. She'd get restless and I'd get irritated. We'd been through this whole song and dance routine before. It didn't usually go well.

I spent that night with her wrapped protectively in my arms. She'd been right to worry about my reaction. My initial thought _was_ to lock her up in a safe house somewhere. But as I stared at the ceiling in the dark that night, I knew that plan was never really going to work. She was Stephanie Plum, magnet for any and all disaster. And she was also the love of my life. Sometimes I didn't know how to make the two truths peacefully coexist.

I sat puzzling half the night trying to come up with a functional solution for everyone. I needed her to be safe, and she needed something that resembled a life of independence. A possible solution came to me just as sunlight started to appear behind the curtains.

Hours later, I felt the bed dip as Stephanie slid off and made her way to the bathroom. A small grin spread across my face when I heard a stifled yelp. To say Stephanie morning hair was a little unruly was a bit of an understatement. I loved it. She wasn't always a fan.

My body remained motionless as I heard her footsteps retrace their path across the bedroom floor. The bed dipped again, but I kept my eyes closed. I felt her shadow cross over me as she leaned in close. Her breath was warm against my cheek as her lips nearly brushed my ear.

"You're not really asleep," she whispered.

I opened my eyes slowly. Her baby blues were sparkling behind a mischievous grin.

"Maybe I was."

"Like I'm going to believe that." She rolled on top of me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Besides, you're _obviously_ awake now."

I did a mental sigh. There was nothing I wanted more right now than to blow off everything and take advantage of the beautiful woman in my bed. But we needed to have a serious conversation, and I knew that would be difficult with… Holy hell! What was she doing? As if she didn't know. I grabbed her hips and quickly stilled their erotic movements.

"Focus, babe. I need to talk to you."

She glanced at me for a moment before leaning down and kissing my neck. "But I _am_ focused," she insisted. " _Very_ focused, in fact." She wasn't lying.

Her hands were wandering, but I was worried if I grabbed them, her hips might start moving again. Damn. I gave myself a slight head shake and gently slid her off of me. She looked disappointed. Her disappointment was nothing compared to mine.

"I need to know you're going to be safe," I started.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she started scooting away from me on the bed.

"And where do you think you're going?" I asked.

"Just making sure you don't have a secret pair of handcuffs just waiting to be slapped on my wrists."

I felt an involuntary rush of desire and leaned a little closer to her. "Do you want me to have a secret pair of handcuffs?" I asked huskily.

She pushed my shoulder away. "Stop that. I thought we were talking about my safety."

I brushed a kiss across her arm. "Maybe it can wait."

She gave me a look. "Now you're just doing that on purpose. What did you need to tell me?"

I leaned back and looked at her. "I need to know you're going to be safe," I started again. "And I know how you get when you have to lay low, so…"

"So?"

"Meet me in the garage at 11, and I'll fill you in on all the details."

She gave me a raised eyebrow. "This isn't some elaborate scheme to kidnap me and lock me away in one of our safe houses, right?"

I felt my mouth twitch slightly in amusement. "Guess you'll just have to show up and find out."

She frowned. "And if I don't?"

"I don't think you'll like the alternative."

She sighed. "Fine. Garage at 11 it is. What have you got going on until then?"

I leaned down and kissed her, heavy on the tongue action and groping. She melted under my touch, and it took a lot of will power to pull away.

"Work, babe," I answered as I slid out of bed and headed for the shower. I caught her dazed expression out of the corner of my eye. And a slow, subtle smile worked its way across my face.


	12. Chapter 12

A Rangeman fleet car pulled into the garage a few minutes after eleven. Stephanie parked and made her way over to me carrying a bag of fast food while sipping a milk shake.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized. "The drive thru was a nightmare."

"Babe."

"What? I didn't know if this mysterious plan of yours included lunch. And I was hungry."

I gave my head a slight shake and motioned for her to follow me.

"Not a Porsche plan then, I take it," she mumbled as we walked past my row of personal cars.

We stopped in front of an older Toyota Camry. I went around and opened the door for her.

"Get in."

She gave me a look before following my instructions. We sat in silence in the car until Stephanie couldn't take it anymore.

"Sooo…" she started. "This is all very…interesting."

"Patience."

I waited until I saw the tail lights of Steph's borrowed car disappear out of the garage. Then I put the Camry in gear and pulled out.

"I wanted to see if your car's being tailed," I said by way of explanation.

She slurped the ends of the milkshake. "Hoping to nail the Undertaker, huh?"

I looked over at her. "Undertaker?"

"What?" she asked grinning. "I thought it was kind of funny."

"Nothing funny about this, babe."

She got very quiet after that. We followed her car for forty-five minutes without a single suspicious vehicle turning up on my radar. Guess it was time to move on to the second part of my plan. I hopped on the freeway and started heading north.

"What happened to tailing my car?" she asked.

"Not the most efficient use of our time." She glanced over at me but didn't say anything else.

We pulled up to a strip mall half an hour later.

"What are we doing _here_?" Stephanie asked glancing up at the shopfront signs.

"Shopping."

She followed me into the army surplus store. I did a quick walkthrough and grabbed some supplies before meeting up with her again.

"Find anything else we need?" I asked. She was looking at some shoes.

"These boots look like yours," she said holding up a pair. "Think if I wore these we could be twins?"

I grabbed the boots and tossed them into my basket.

"Ranger…no…I was just…" she stammered.

"Come on, ace. We better get going."

She followed me up to the counter and waited while I paid for everything. Then we grabbed our things and made our way back out to the car.

She slumped in the seat and sighed. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"If I told you, I'd probably have to kill you." I glanced over at her just in time to catch her enormous eye roll. She obviously wasn't amused by my attempt to lighten the mood. "Just go with it, babe. We'll be there soon."

Five minutes later I parked across the street from an abandoned warehouse. Stephanie looked out the car window then back at me.

"Please tell me this isn't the bat cave."

There was a brief moment when I wanted to lie. Just to see how she'd react. But I decided against it. "Not the bat cave, babe. More of a…training center."

"Training center," she said back. "You're going to make me exercise, aren't you?"

Her eyes were narrowed slightly, and I was trying not to smile. She was so damn cute sometimes. "Not exactly."

I grabbed one of the bags from the back seat and tossed her some cargo pants and a tank top. "Here, put these on."

She held up the clothes and made a face. I reached over and pulled her shirt off before she had a chance to protest. Then I tugged on the tank top.

"Geez!" she snapped as she adjusted her top. "I would've put it on myself. Quit treating me like a damn kid!"

"We're on a tight schedule. I've gotta be back in a few hours, so the faster we get going with everything, the better." I reached into the bag and pulled out a t-shirt and cargos for myself.

"Is all of this really necessary?" Stephanie asked before getting distracted by the removal of my shirt. I could've sworn I saw a trickle of drool slide down her chin as I zipped up my pants.

"Everything ok, babe?" I asked with a smirk. She shook her head a little, slowly coming back from fantasyland.

We got out of the car and headed toward the warehouse. I picked the padlock and untangled the chains covering the entrance. Stephanie took one glance inside and looked like she was about to turn tail and sprint back to the car. I grabbed her arm and pulled her along behind me.

"This place is giving me the creeps," she muttered. "What the hell are we doing here?"

I dropped the bags on the floor and started pulling out the equipment. "Something I should have done with you a long time ago."

She stared at everything spread out on the floor. "Handcuffs, rope…is this a crow bar?"

I glanced up but didn't say anything.

"Ranger, if this is all part of some sick fantasy, you're going to have to find someone else to play along. I'm not into the whole bondage thing."

My mouth twitched a small smile. "Babe." I reached into a bag and pulled out a small piece of black fabric. Stephanie's eyes followed me as I stood and took a few steps so that I was standing behind her. I leaned in close and heard her breath catch. "Do you trust me?"

"Y-yes," she stammered.

"Good." I tied the fabric around her head into a makeshift blindfold. She was nervous; so much so that her whole body was trembling. I wrapped my arms around her waist. " _This_ is something we need to work on. You operate in high adrenaline mode whenever you're caught in a bad situation. I want you to learn to stay focused, to stay in the moment. I want you to always be in control." I paused. "And I want you to know how to defend yourself."

Her breathing had returned to normal, and she was moderately relaxed against me. "Is the blindfold really necessary?"

I pushed her away from me slightly. "Sometimes you can't always _see_ your attacker, babe." A few moments passed before I gave her right shoulder a shove. She staggered forward at the abrupt impact. I waited a minute before reenacting my assault. This time she listened for me and moved out of the way.

"Better," I said. I saw a small smile appear on her face. Then I shoved her left shoulder. She lost her balance and fell onto her knees. "Don't go getting cocky. That's when you start making mistakes."

She stood up slowly after muttering a few expletives, and we continued our lessons. By the end, Steph was laying spread-eagled on the concrete floor.

"I suck at this," she frowned pulling the blindfold away from her face. "You knocked me down so many times I'm probably going to have bruises on my bruises."

"You're improving," I countered. "Mistakes are how you learn."

"Easy for you to say. I bet there's no way I could catch _you_ off guard."

I leaned over her and raised a playful eyebrow. "Want to try?"

She groaned. "I don't think I have the energy left to stand let alone take _you_ on in a battle of stealth and deception."

I gave her a light kiss before pulling her to her feet. "Maybe next time then."

As we made our way back out to the street, I snuck a glance back at Stephanie. In my eyes, she still looked vulnerable. But I was impressed she'd handled the training so well. Better than I had initially expected, actually. I'd always known she was tough. That there was a certain level of grit behind those seemingly innocent eyes. Maybe with more training, she'd be able to use that grit to her advantage.

I gave a small mental sigh as we slid in the car to head back towards Trenton. We still had a long way to go. But at least we were heading in the right direction.


	13. Chapter 13

Stephanie's face contorted into a mixture of expressions as she struggled against the ropes and handcuffs that currently held her captive in the chair. There were the obvious signs of exhaustion and frustration along with what I suspected was a growing twitch of annoyance. I'd made this exercise more challenging on purpose, and not wanting her to give up prematurely, I'd orchestrated a promising motivational tool.

I took a seat on the floor a few feet away and pulled out a small box from the bag I'd brought in earlier. Her movements stilled momentarily as she eyed it with curiosity. I flipped open the lid and breathed in the dark, intoxicating aroma.

"Is that…" she started.

"Molten. Lava. Cake," I said showing her the contents with a devilish grin.

I dipped my finger into the warm, chocolaty lava and licked it, allowing my eyes to roll back in my head slightly. A soft whimper escaped her lips before I heard the creaks and groans of the ropes as she worked furiously against them. I reached into the bag for a fork.

"Better hurry it up there, babe. This tastes even better than I remember."

She gave me a death glare before redirecting her focus back to the bindings. The truth is, I get very little enjoyment from dessert. I mean, it's fine every once in a while, but it lacks anything remotely close to nutritional value. It's dense and only offers brief satisfaction as it moves across your taste buds. What's left beyond that is nothing more than elevated glucose levels and a sluggish body. Not really my cup of tea.

However, the last several weeks, I'd been consuming it at alarming rates. Dessert was one of Stephanie's greatest motivators. She would do just about _anything_ for a well-made dessert. Including the new training regime I'd organized for her following the recent casket situation.

I'd give her assorted challenges to complete, and if she managed to finish them before I made it through the dessert, then she got whatever was left. Her success rate seemed exponentially linked to the amount of chocolate that was involved. Except for the pineapple upside down cake. She'd probably leap blindfolded from a ten-story building if that cake was waiting for her on the other side. It was a strange food love affair that I would probably never fully understand.

I took another bite of the lava cake. "Mmmm…"

She was now squirming so violently in the chair that it started to rock. I glanced up as it suddenly crashed to the floor. It was all I could do to keep from rushing over to her to make sure she was ok. But it was important to see what she'd do next. So I waited.

After a few minutes of creative swearing, she started wriggling her shoulders, working the ropes up and over her head. Once the ropes were gone, she was able to make it back onto her feet where she proceeded to undo the cuffs with the trick I'd shown her during one of her previous lessons. I heard the clasp click twice and watched as she walked over to me.

She dropped the handcuffs in my lap and narrowed her eyes. "Give me the damn cake," she growled.

I stood and handed her the box and fork before kissing her just above her ear. Her hair was slightly damp from sweat, and her cheeks were flushed from all the physical exertion. I wrapped a side arm around her. "You earned it."

She took a bite and moaned. My blood instantly warmed, and my pants started feeling a little uncomfortable. Sometimes she was just too damn sexy.

Ten seconds later, the cake was gone. Stephanie walked over and slumped into the chair subconsciously rubbing her shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" I asked.

"Probably just another internal bruise to add to the collection." She paused. "Is all of this really helping anything?"

I wasn't sure how to answer. To be honest, the whole casket thing still had me shaken. And I'd been having the nightmares again. Lately I felt like I was always walking on eggshells. Just waiting for the next bad thing to happen. The training was supposed to make us both feel a little more prepared. But I wasn't sure it was making that much of a difference in my worry levels.

On the positive side, I'd noticed some marked improvements in Stephanie. She was a lot more aware of her surroundings and wasn't nearly as quick to panic when faced with a bad situation. Even her FTA apprehensions had been going more smoothly lately.

I enjoyed seeing the new-found confidence in her eyes. Especially when she mastered a new skill. It only confirmed what I had a feeling I already knew to be true. I was beyond in love with this woman.

I startled myself with that sudden mental confession. It wasn't a surprise by any means. Somewhere deep down I'd always known that I loved her. Maybe even from the moment I first met her.

But I'd always tried to mute it, to keep all of those emotions from reaching the surface. I wanted to protect her from falling for a man like me. Because I always had threats lurking in the shadows. And one day, I knew I wasn't going to be able to protect her.

Images flashed through my mind of my terribly vivid nightmares. Her beautiful blue eyes were always staring back at me, lifeless and vacant as I begged and pleaded with her to stay with me. My hands were always covered in blood, and the ache in my chest was sometimes so severe that I'd wake up struggling to breathe.

Stephanie Plum was without a doubt my one weakness. And I worried constantly that my enemies had already figured out this terrible truth. Maybe I would be able to protect her from this most recent abductor, but I knew there would always be another one waiting to take his place. With me in her life, she'd always be in danger, and I knew I was being selfish by trying to make her stay.

I felt a playful punch in my arm jarring me away from my conflicted thoughts. "Why so serious?" Stephanie asked mimicking the Joker's infamous line from one of the recent Batman movies.

I shook my head. "I'm always serious."

"Not _always_ ," she smirked. "Bet I could get you to smile."

I already knew that she could. Usually without even trying. After all, she'd been a pretty consistent form of entertainment for me over the years. I was pretty sure her zany approach to life could make just about anyone smile.

"Want me to show you my impersonation of Tank?" she asked.

Before I had a chance to respond, she puffed out her chest, narrowed her eyes into a dark, steely gaze and stomped around the floor, grunting after every few steps. She looked more like an awkward Tarzan than Tank.

I raised an eyebrow. "You know this building has Rangeman security cameras, right?"

Stephanie let out a laugh before doing a small finger wave into the air. "Hi, Tank!" she called. "Love ya, buddy!" She blew a one-handed kiss into the air.

I shook my head as I felt the corners of my mouth turn up slightly. Only Stephanie…

I grabbed her arm and pulled her into me, staring into her still-smiling eyes before covering her lips with a gentle kiss. She leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around me. For one brief, satisfying moment everything else just faded into the background. It all would have been near perfect except for that gnawing feeling that I couldn't seem to shake. Someone was still out there in the shadows, and there was no way of knowing when or where the next attack would take place.


	14. Chapter 14

It was late by the time I made it back to the office. I'd made some stops with a few clients on the way home to make sure everything was still running smoothly. I didn't usually get many complaints.

As I pulled into the garage, I noticed Tank's vehicle was still occupying his designated parking space. I found him several minutes later on the tech floor putting away some of his equipment. He gave me a subtle head nod once I caught his attention.

"You're here later than usual," I noted helping him put away the last of his gear.

"Had a call to come check on a security breech. Ran a little longer than expected."

"Hmm."

He eyed me curiously. "You need something?"

To be honest, I wasn't exactly sure _what_ I needed. But I felt like whatever it was probably required a beer or two. And I always tried not to drink alone.

"You got somewhere to be?"

He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Depends who's asking."

"How about a stupid kid from war days gone by?"

"He got Coronas and lime wedges?"

"Probably a couple that are chilled."

"Then I'd say I've got a little while before I've got someplace else to be."

We did our handshake before I left him to finish up his business. He showed up at my apartment twenty minutes later, and I handed him a cold beer as he walked through the door.

We went and sat on the couch and casually sipped our beers. Silence filled the room, but neither of us were particularly uncomfortable with it. Sometimes more could be said in the silence than the noise.

Tank let me be the first to speak. "I've got a problem," I confessed.

"Kinda figured," he grunted. We didn't make eye contact. Just continued to stare at the wall across from us.

"I thought I had some stuff figured out. But…there are some _complications_ that I hadn't really anticipated."

Tank raised an eyebrow before taking a long pull on his beer. "Complications, huh?"

I sighed. "Shit."

There was a small smile on his face. "You're a real idiot sometimes, ya know? For being Mr. Security and an intelligent business owner, there are times you really don't know shit."

I gave him a look, and he elbowed me in the shoulder.

"How'd she do it?" he asked still grinning.

"Do what?"

"Make a cold-hearted bastard like you collapse into a pile of pansy-ass mush?"

I shrugged. "Hell if I know. She's a complete disaster."

Tank leaned back into the couch. "Bomber's something else alright. But I gotta feeling that's not why I'm here tonight with the Coronas." He paused. "You do something stupid?"

I glanced over at him. "I'm afraid I might."

"What're we talking here? Should I be planning on disposing of a body in the near future?" I shook my head. Then his eyes got big. "Shit. She's not pregnant, is she? You're not thinking of doing what you did with Rachel, right?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No. She's _not_ pregnant. And I would _never_ do what I did to Rachel-or Julie-again. But that's the problem. I've gotta let her go before…before something happens."

Tank grew very quiet and hardly moved a muscle. He was seriously contemplating his next response.

"Let her go, huh?"

"Tank, I'm toxic. I have demons I can't outrun, and I there's no way I can protect her every second of every day. If she's with me, one day I'm going to lose her."

"Training's going that bad, huh?"

"No, actually. She's getting better." I felt myself smile a little. "Just the other day she got the cuffs off in under a minute."

Tank held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I don't need to be hearing about no kinky foreplay shit."

I shook my head and sighed. "I wanted her to take all of this seriously. We haven't…" I paused, feeling the need to be somewhat discreet. "It's been a while since she's been up to the seventh floor."

"Maybe _that's_ your problem," Tank said with a smirk. "That pent up energy's messing with your mind." I gave him a death glare. "Or not…" He paused to think some more. Then he grew serious and looked me directly in the eyes. "You better be damn sure about letting her go, man. She don't deserve to be yo-yo'd around like she was with the cop. So if you do it, you do it clean. Because she's gonna be plenty hurt, and there's gonna be a long recovery process. You hurt her like that then try and come back for her, I'll break your f-ing arm, got it?"

I narrowed my eyes at the threat, but then softened a little. "That's the problem. I can't seem to let her go." I polished off my beer and set the bottle on the coffee table. We continued to sit in silence letting that last statement hang heavy in the air.

"Maybe you're not supposed to," Tank added quietly.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell him about the nightmares. They were so incredibly vivid that surely they had to be prophetic. They felt like some kind of cosmic warning, and I knew I'd be a complete fool to simply ignore them.

"Listen, maybe you should be looking at all of this like an equation," Tank said. He stood up and searched around for a piece of paper and pen. Once he'd found them, he came and sat back down next to me. He scribbled some things on the paper.

I frowned. "I'm not sure I can handle a math lesson right now."

"Just shut up and listen." He pointed to some letters. "This here's you and Stephanie."

I noticed he chose the letters "s" and "c" over "s" and "r." "What's with the 'c'?" I asked.

"You've always been the real Carlos with her. I'm hoping one day the 'Ranger' side of you can go away permanently. Maybe there's a someday when you won't need him anymore."

I eyed Tank for a moment. We both knew the possibility was slim. But it was a nice thought anyway.

He pointed to an "n." "This here's your demon variable, and the tiny 'n' above it is the possibility of the quantity to be limitless. 'N' to the 'nth' degree." He drew parenthesis around the "s" and "c" keeping the "n's" on the outside. Then he drew an equal sign followed by a dopey smiley face.

"What the hell is that?" I asked pointing to the face.

"That's your happy future together. All you gotta figure out is how to get you and Steph from this side with the 'n' to the other side with all the smileys."

"And how do you suppose I go about doing some crazy math shit like that?"

Tank sighed. "I think there's gonna be a high price to make it to the other side. You're gonna have to make the decision whether that's a price you're willing to pay."

"What happens if there isn't an 's' in the equation?" I asked hesitantly.

Tank crossed out the "s." Then he crossed out the "n." "Then you don't care about the demons anymore." He suddenly crossed out the smile too. "But you'll also lose the smiles." He paused. "She's your chance to be happy, man. Don't go overcomplicating the equation. Life's too short for that."

He handed me the sheet of paper then got up from the couch. He emptied his beer bottle before starting for the door but hesitated slightly before going. "Do you need me to take the rest of the beer with me? You gonna be ok here on your own?"

"I'll be fine."

He stared at me intently. "You're sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. Now get your ass outta here and home to that crazy collection of cats."

He smirked. "I'll give 'em extra treats from Uncle Ranger."

"And I'll be sure to tell everyone about that unfortunate incident during basic training."

"Now that's just mean." His shoulders slumped slightly in mock disappointment as he headed for the elevator.

"Tank," I added just as he was about to hit the call button. "Thanks."

He turned around and gave a very rare subtle smile. "Any time."

I retreated back into my apartment after Tank began his descent to the garage. The piece of paper with the equation was still sitting on the coffee table. I picked it up and looked it over for a while. Then I drew another equation beneath the one Tank had constructed. It was much more complicated in some ways, but the end result still allowed for the "c" and "s" to be together. I guess when it came down to it that was all that really mattered anyway.


	15. Chapter 15

Fear was a strange thing, he mused over his morning coffee. Everyone had fears. Fear was a form of protection against legitimate threats and dangers. But sometimes it was also irrational and all-consuming. That was the type of fear he thrived on; fear that debilitated its owner. Fear that punished.

During his years in school, he'd used fear to exact revenge on his tormenters. Basic psychology at its very finest. And his findings amused him. The bullies were terrified of some rather strange things. Like social rejection, abandonment, or even being trapped in darkness. And then there was that one guy deathly afraid of clowns. Probably had Stephen King to thank for that one.

When they were treating him like a human punching bag, they'd always seemed gigantic and invincible; a formidable force he could never physically overcome. But those fears. They reduced them to small and insignificant cowering fools. Watching them crumble before his eyes made him feel like Lex Luther holding the kryptonite trump card over a suddenly powerless Superman. The feeling somehow went beyond excitement. It was exhilarating.

Of course, those bullies had only been mere mirages of power and strength. Eventually, he began setting loftier goals to take down those with real power. He sought out men no one dared go up against and then brought the towering giants to their knees. Who would believe he was capable of making ruthless drug dealers cower in the shadows or murderous mafia dons look twice before going down dark alleyways? He became convinced that no one could withstand his torment. That is until that fateful night when he happened upon the man in black.

Truth be told, he'd become slightly bored with the fear and intimidation tactics. It wasn't much of a challenge anymore, and it was beginning to lose its appeal. No one was ever quite as intimidating as they appeared. Most of it was nothing more than an elaborate show. Reputations were often talk and rumor laced with a few strategic truths. Clever. But not as satisfying to destroy.

Then there was Ranger. His reputation was shrouded in mystery, but his actions _never_ contradicted the persona he'd created for himself. He was powerful because he followed through with ever threat, every promise he'd ever made. He was a man of his word to the extreme. And he was fearless.

He walked into every room, every situation with seamless confidence. Bullets and knives didn't stop him. And even the darkest forms of humanity couldn't make him flinch. It seemed that he didn't even fear death. Ranger was the strongest man he'd ever encountered; the first person seemingly without something to exploit. After tedious searches, he found nothing to bring this man, this monster, to his knees.

And then the girl happened. The simplicity of the situation was fascinating to observe. It was obvious the pairing was strange. An unlikely friendship to be sure. And an even unlikelier romance. It was so subtle sometimes that he wasn't entirely sure he'd really found what he was looking for. Wasn't sure this Stephanie Plum could create the right kind of fear. Thankfully the Scrogg situation had played out so perfectly. Then he knew he'd found the chink in the armor.

He sat eyeing his watch. The girl was probably at the bonds office by now. He read through the morning newspaper as he continued to wait for the call from his new employee. Ranger was obviously aware of his presence now, and he couldn't risk any traceable technology on the girl anymore. So he'd hired a shadow. And waited.

The girl had decent instincts and seemed to sense the unfamiliar presence, but she couldn't seem to pick out her follower. He was obviously worth every overpriced penny for his involvement. And he'd make a decent fall guy if Ranger proved even more resourceful than initially expected.

Suddenly the burner phone rang.

"She's on the freeway," came the raspy voice on the other end.

He opened his laptop and smiled. Sixty-eight seconds was all it would take. Sixty-eight seconds and the man in black's life would begin its plunge into a whole new realm of terror.

Two days passed after the late-night talk with Tank. And despite the variables that I knew still plagued my life, knowing there was a tentative plan for the future made me start to relax a little. The training continued to go well, and I was gaining confidence that if Stephanie was confronted by an attacker, she now possessed the skills to make it out of the situation all on her own. But all of that was contingent on the theory that the bad guys would play by the rules. Truth is, I should have known better.

I'd been in my office all morning sorting through new client accounts and paperwork when my phone rang. I recognized it as a call from the control room, and I answered on the second ring.

"Report."

"It's her car," came the hesitant reply. "It just went off grid."

"And?"

"Just heard a five-car accident reported near where her vehicle was last seen on screen."

My thoughts froze for a moment. "Send whoever's closest over ASAP. I want a full report in ten."

The call ended and I tried calling Stephanie. It went straight to voicemail. I tried again. As her voicemail message played in my ear for the second time, I closed my eyes and began systematically shutting down my emotions. Then I sprinted out of my office and hopped into the first car I found in the garage. I counted silently in my head as the engine roared in an effort to accommodate the sudden acceleration demanded by the gas pedal being shoved to the floor.

My phone rang, and the call connected, but I didn't answer. There was a beat of silence before the caller decided to continue anyway.

"The car's totaled. An ambulance just took her to the hospital. She's not critical. Just pretty banged up."

"Start asking questions," I ordered. "Find out about the other drivers. Get statements on what happened." I didn't want to say it out loud, but I already knew this hadn't just been an accident.

I pulled a U-turn and headed toward the hospital. " _Not critical_ ," I repeated to myself. " _She's not critical."_ My knuckles appeared white against the black steering wheel. I relaxed my death grip and ran through a mental list of all the precautions I'd carefully put in place to protect Stephanie. Not one of them could have prevented the events from today.

A small, foreign feeling began to burn somewhere low in my gut. It was something I hadn't allowed myself to feel in years. Immediately I shut it down. With Stephanie's life in the balance, I couldn't afford to acknowledge it. Fear was not an option.


	16. Chapter 16

Stephanie was having a broken arm set and a cast put on when I arrived at the hospital. She was staring off into space with vacant eyes as the doctor wrapped the arm. They probably had her on some pretty strong pain meds.

"That should just about do it," the doctor smiled before gathering the gauze and scissors off the table. "Does everything feel ok?"

Stephanie giggled. Then the doctor glanced over at me.

"I take it you're here for her?" he asked, patting Stephanie on the shoulder.

I gave a small nod of affirmation before crossing over to her. She turned as I approached, and I felt my heart wrench. The whole left side of her face was swollen and already changing colors; her left eye was weepy and bloodshot from broken blood vessels. She reminded me of a beautiful Frankenstein's monster.

"She have a concussion?" I asked, turning back toward the doctor.

"The bruising appears to be from the impact of the airbags when the car rolled. She didn't seem to be exhibiting symptoms of a concussion when they first brought her in. But it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on her for a few hours. Do you know what to watch for?"

I gave another nod, and the doctor disappeared out into the hallway. Stephanie hopped off the exam table and stumbled into the counter. I went over to help her back onto her feet.

"Wow. I feel like a floating feather," she said with a lopsided smile. "Think I could fly right now?"

I shook my head. "Babe, I think you already are."

"Aw," she crooned. "You came flying with me?"

I wrapped her in my arms as gently as possible before whispering into her hair, "always."

She pulled away slightly before pressing a pointed finger into my chest. "Your car got ja-a-acked up," she slurred. "Glass and shiny black pieces _everywhere_." Then her chin dropped as she stared intently at the floor. "Did I hurt anybody?" The question was so quiet, I could barely hear it.

I tried not to frown. "I think you probably got the worst of it."

"S'good," she sighed. "Pretty sure can't feel my toes, but everything else seems ok-ish."

"Maybe we should use one of the wheelchairs to get you out to the car."

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't want to draw any attention. Gosh!"

I didn't have the heart to tell her about the Frankenstein's monster look. "If you draw any attention, it's just because of how stunning you are." I leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

"Liar." Her eyes narrowed before I got a swift elbow to the ribs. "It's gotta be pretty bad for you to pulling out the Ranger charm like that."

"It's not _that_ bad. You're just a little banged up. Probably some rest and a few donuts and you'll be good as new."

"Mmm…donuts," she smiled. "S'moment today when I thought 'no more donuts for Stephanie.' Made me kinda sad."

I suddenly felt an odd mixture of emotions. Part of me wanted to laugh. Stephanie's last thoughts _would_ be of donuts. Or _some_ kind of dessert. Then I felt a little miffed that the donuts had trumped thoughts of me as her life flashed before her eyes. Trumped by _donuts_! But mostly I felt relieved that the woman babbling nonsense next to me wasn't laying out on a metal table awaiting an autopsy. The best thing that had ever happened to me was still happening. And I had this strange overwhelming urge to fuse her to my being and never let her go.

"Quit being so serious," she mumbled. "'S not like I haven't been through all uh this before. Hell, the nurses pulled me right up in the system."

"Doesn't get any easier," I replied.

Stephanie managed to make it out to the car using me as a human crutch. She crumpled into the passenger seat before giving me a look. " _That_ was exhausting." She glanced around. "This isn't your car." It was a statement more than a question.

"It's on loan. I left in kind of a hurry."

"Oh." She paused then sniffed the air. "It smells funny."

"Junior likes his Indian food."

She made a face. "I miss the Bulgari Turbo."

"Something to keep in mind for next time."

She adjusted in the seat in an attempt to get comfortable while I made my way over to the driver's door. I took a deep breath. It was so hard to look at her. Not just because of the cast and the bruising. I'd definitely seen worse wounds before. No, it was hard because seeing her like this made me feel like somehow I'd failed. Almost like the injuries were my doing. I did a mental sigh. I had a feeling her equation was much safer and simpler without the "c" factor.

We pulled out of the parking lot, and she watched me drive for a while before her eyes grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. The words lingered in the silent car and weighed heavy on my mind. Somehow I'd always known this day would come. It was the reason I tried so hard to push her away. The reason I gave for not fully allowing her into my life.

She sighed in her sleep, and I made a last-minute decision to hop on the freeway. I needed some extra time to think, and I was starting to wonder if the company building on Haywood was even a secure location anymore. There was a safe house without a paperwork trail just a few hours away. I decided the guys could handle the totaled car investigation for the time being.

Halfway to our destination, I stopped by a cellular store and bought a burner phone. I called Tank on the secure line and left a brief message. "Heading to Havana. Going offline. Will be in touch." We'd only used the "Havana" safe house a few times in the past. It was about as off-grid as you could get while still being stateside.

An hour later we pulled into a quiet neighborhood and drove to the very end of the street where a small house was tucked away, almost out of view. I hopped out and keyed in a code for the garage. Stephanie was still sleeping soundly, so I parked and got a few things ready before carrying her inside.

The house was smaller than I remembered. I'd purchased it on a whim during the last economic downturn. It was a steal, and I'd paid for it in cash. Everything about it conveyed simplicity; simple floor plan, simple set-up, simple décor. It was a far cry from the penthouse apartment I'd grown accustomed to on Haywood. But it wasn't without its charms.

I carried Stephanie to the bedroom and covered her with the quilt from the end of the bed. She curled her body into one of the pillows and soon drifted off again. I brushed a light kiss across her still-swollen cheek before heading back out to the living room.

Without a computer, there wasn't much for me to do here, so I conducted a quick walkthrough of the house before taking inventory of the kitchen. It had obviously been several months since the house had been in use. Not a lot in the cabinets by way of food. Or anything really. After some debating, I finally decided to make a quick trip to the closest store.

I didn't like the idea of leaving Stephanie alone and unprotected, but I wouldn't be gone long. And besides, only five people knew about this place anyway. The realtor, Ella, Tank, Hector, and myself. Well, and a few "guests." But those people were out of the country now; probably indefinitely.

I stopped in front of the hidden safe in the hallway and pulled out some cash. There was no point in being off grid just to blow our location with the platinum credit card. I snuck back into the bedroom and checked on Stephanie one last time before heading out to the garage. I'd probably be gone and back before she'd even have a chance to notice.


	17. Chapter 17

I pulled back into the quiet neighborhood a short while later with several bags of groceries. It was somewhat refreshing that I didn't have that "imminent danger" feeling out here. In fact, save for my Rangeman attire and assorted weaponry, pulling into the garage, I almost felt a little suburban and domestic. Like I was just another guy heading home after work to be with the woman he loved. It felt very surreal.

Even more so when I saw Stephanie waiting for me on the couch. Guess she finally came out of her medicated nap.

"I hope you picked up something to eat," she called over her shoulder. "I'm starving!" She slowly got up and followed me out into the small kitchen. I handed her a bag of chips and a snickers bar.

"See if that can tide you over until I get dinner going."

She raised a curious eyebrow. "You can cook?"

"We're about to find out."

I pulled out some chicken, assorted vegetables and rice from the grocery bags and set to work chopping vegetables and sautéing the chicken in a frying pan while the rice sat steaming on the stove. Within minutes, the kitchen was filled with some very satisfying savory aromas. I snuck a glance at Stephanie; it looked like she was seconds away from drooling. And I wasn't entirely sure if it was from the smell of the food or watching me in the kitchen. Something to log away for future reference.

"So where are we exactly?" she asked once the shock of the whole cooking thing had worn off.

"A safe house."

"Yeah, thanks. Kinda figured that one out on my own. Do I get to know the address?"

"I'd have to use that neuro scrambler thing on you. Probably wouldn't be pretty."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're really not going to tell me?"

She held my gaze until I gave a very small breath that she knew was the equivalent of my sigh. "It's safer this way. In case we need to come back here. I figure the less you know, the better."

"I'm not going to go blabbing it through the Burg gossip mill, if that's what you're worried about."

"There's more than gossip that has me worried right now."

She raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"You've had a tail for the last two weeks."

There was a lot of silence. She eyed her cast in the sling and took a seat on a barstool. "Did my tail cause the accident?" she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"The guys are looking into it. But honestly, I don't think so. I'd been keeping tabs on him, and his marker wasn't anywhere near you when it happened. Unless he swapped vehicles. But I don't think he realized he was being watched. Could've been a remote job, but I haven't heard any updates on that yet."

"So someone else then."

"That's my theory."

She thought for a moment. "Any leads?"

"The guy who abducted you from your apartment and your tail. I have a feeling they were hired by the same person, but they haven't been providing a lot to work with. No direct contact of any kind as far as I can tell. He's gone to some very elaborate lengths to stay invisible. That's why I thought it best to come out here for a while. Stay off the grid until…until we know more."

"Gosh! What's this guy's problem anyway? Think we're dealing with some nut job who gets off on playing sick games with people?"

Honestly, I didn't want to think about it. Unlike the other times in my life when someone had tried to deliberately get my attention, this person wasn't leaving any clues to follow. He wasn't focused on making his presence known or making me remember who he was, so I wasn't even sure he was someone from my past anymore. And I was still struggling to figure out the end game. That was probably what worried me the most.

I grabbed a bottle of wine out of the other grocery bag and brought it over to the table. "I think dinner's about ready."

She watched me pour her a glass then gave me a funny look. "This is weird, right?"

"The nut job or the wine?"

"No, _this_. The house, the dinner, the wine. It's like we're…"

"Normal?"

"I was going to say married."

I took a sip of the wine. "Doesn't seem so weird to me."

She sighed. "Probably because none of it's real. It's like Hawaii all over again. You slip into casual mode and I forget this is just part of the mission for you."

I grabbed some plates and busied myself with dishing up dinner because I was suddenly at a loss for words. Hawaii had left scars; physical for me, emotional for her. It reiterated what I'd always told her. I liked her, we had good chemistry. No, I _loved_ her, and we had _phenomenal_ chemistry. _But_ my past still threatened to catch up with me, and I couldn't ask her to deal with a life linked to such an ambiguous future. She shouldn't be the one always having to sit with her back against the wall. That was my cross to bear.

We sat eating in silence. Stephanie finished hers in record time and polished off seconds and part of thirds. So much for leftovers.

"That was _really_ good," she said leaning back contentedly in her chair. "Any other hidden talents I should know about?"

"You think dinner was good," I said with a slight smile, "wait until you see what's for dessert." She froze and stared at me, obviously debating what kind of dessert I had in mind. I got up and grabbed a small container out of the freezer.

I set it on the table and pushed it over to her. She was still eyeing me suspiciously. "What's wrong? You seem…disappointed."

"Just a little surprised," she added quickly, obviously not wanting to pull the tiger's tail. "Are we sharing, or is this just for me?"

"Just for you." I watched her scoop out a spoonful and happily devour it. She closed her eyes and smiled in blissful satisfaction. I felt a sudden surge of heat travel south. I'd gone with the artery-clogging coffee ice cream I'd sometimes seen in the freezer at her apartment. Apparently it had been a good choice.

"I'm not sure I can afford to share desserts with you," I added as I took a seat at the table again. "During your training sessions, I swear I put on five pounds."

Her eyes got big and she dropped her spoon on the table before holding up her good arm. "Stop the presses!" she called with a snarky smile. "Ranger put on _five whole pounds_ from innutritious eating!" She rolled her eyes before continuing to eat the ice cream. "Bet _that_ was a nightmare to lose. You have to eat even more twigs and berries than usual? Or did you just add in a few extra midnight marathons to your routine?"

"Smartass," I said before catching her spoon mid-bite.

"Hey, I wasn't done…"

I leaned over and kissed her, but she winced and pulled back.

"Sorry," she frowned. "Everything still hurts."

I brushed my thumb over her knuckles before bringing her hand up to my lips. "There's a bottle of pain killers in one of the bags from the store. Do you need some?"

She nodded. I brought her a few tablets and a glass of water. "Do you remember any details from the accident?" I asked.

She decided to distract herself with more ice cream. "I remember getting on the freeway. I'd just been by the bonds office and was heading out to bring in an FTA. The car was driving like normal. Then the steering got all weird like I drove over a spill. I remember swerving a little, and when I tried to break, nothing happened. The next part's a bit hazy. I think I went for the emergency break, and that's when all hell broke loose."

"Have any trouble with the steering or breaks before then?"

"I don't think so."

There'd been reports done on car systems getting hacked, but it was an extremely intricate and complicated process. It required an intimate knowledge of the vehicle along with beyond-genius hacking abilities. The studies had classified the hacking attempts as "highly improbable." "Improbable wasn't the same as impossible," I mused.

"You interested in an all-expense paid vacation?" I asked.

"Not particularly."

"Let me rephrase that then. You need to go away for a while."

She made a face. "No thanks. I don't like being bullied into mandatory vacations."

"Stephanie."

"Ranger."

"You have a broken arm and your face is currently showing every color of the rainbow. And I think that was the point. If the point was to fill another spot in the cemetery, I think you'd be dining with St. Peter right now."

"Ah, but I have my very own personal Batman to protect me," she added flippantly. Sometimes I really hated all the super hero crap.

"Batman, babe. Not Orpheus. I'm not sanctioned to travel to the underworld to bring you back. And I'm not playing one step ahead in this game, so neither are you. Don't go getting all stubborn just to prove a point. Because it gets really difficult to make those points when you're six feet under."

She glared at me and shoved the ice cream away. "You're acting like a real jerk. You should've left me at the hospital." She got up and stormed out of the room.

I grabbed the dishes and dumped them in the sink. The clattering ceramic and glass was minimally satisfying. Honestly, I wanted to throw them all against the wall and watch them shatter into a million pieces. Instead, I dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups. Once I stopped seeing red, I decided to call Tank for an update.

The phone picked up almost immediately. "We have a problem," Tank stated abruptly.

"And?"

"I was trying to think of a way to get in touch with you. There's been a missing person's report issued for Stephanie."

"What? Why?"

"Helen Plum heard about the accident and went to check on her daughter. When she wasn't at the hospital, she tried her apartment, and I guess the place had been ransacked."

"Shit."

"She got the cops involved. I tried explaining things to her without being too specific, but she insisted I was just trying to cover up the truth. She's convinced something _really_ bad must have happened, and of course when I said you weren't available to talk, she freaked. It hasn't been very pretty here."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried to gather my thoughts. "We'll be back in a few hours."

"You sure?"

"No." I ended the call.

After rinsing off the dishes and putting the rest of the groceries away, I walked down the hall to find Stephanie. I heard the shower running and slowly opened the door to the bathroom. She was sitting on the floor with her elbows resting on her knees and her head on the cast. Both eyes were puffy from crying.

I shut off the water. "You're not supposed to get the cast wet," I stated bluntly.

"I'm not stupid," she scowled. "Why do you think I wasn't in the shower?" Probably part of the reason she was crying. Stephanie liked her shower therapy.

I helped her onto her feet. "You got your wish. We're heading back to Trenton."

"Good."

I ignored her remark but felt a twitch of anger start simmering just below the surface. It was probably misdirected. I knew it was mostly related to the recent chain of events, but it definitely wasn't helping that Stephanie felt like now was a good time to argue about her safety.

She was always picking the moments when the stakes were highest to push the boundaries. I had a feeling it was more a defense mechanism than anything. A scared, cornered bird puffing up its feathers in a last ditch effort to thwart an attack. On any other day, it probably would have been amusing. Today it was nothing but a giant pain in the ass.

I folded the quilt and tossed it on the foot of the bed.

"Did you hear what I said?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well?" She was obviously trying to get a rise out of me.

"Well nothing. We're leaving."

I left the room and headed for the garage. So much for being normal. Ironically, it still felt like we could have been married.


	18. Chapter 18

_Back to the Prison-present day_

 _"_ _That_ was the abduction situation?" James asked. "Her mom freaked after not seeing her daughter a few hours after an accident?"

"She's a natural worrier," Ranger explained. "And the apartment had been ransacked. I should have thought it through before going out of town on a whim. All I could think about at the time was Stephanie's safety. Nothing else seemed to matter."

"So what does this have to do with your recent prison stay?"

"Nothing," Ranger replied.

"Then why did the cop have me look into this report?"

"Because there wasn't a report for the next abduction."

"Was it another misunderstanding?"

Ranger got very quiet. His eyes grew dark and terrifying. "No," he finally answered. "Stephanie went missing for one hundred eighteen hours and thirty-two minutes."

"That's very…specific."

"Yes."

"Were you involved in the abduction? Was it somehow related to the murder?"

"You're still not asking the right questions, Conroy."

"You're being overly cryptic and a giant pain in the ass, Manoso. This would go a lot smoother if you'd just cut to the chase already. Why the hell are you in here?"

Ranger slowly got up from his chair. "I think we're done for the day. See you next time, Conroy."

James slammed his hand down on his pad of paper earning him some startled looks from the other visitors. This case was driving him nuts! And he didn't have time to be screwing around pondering the right questions to ask. As he walked down the prison corridor, he decided that he was done with this case. No more puzzles and cryptic stories. And most importantly no more Ricardo Carlos Manoso. The crazed murderer could rot in prison for all he cared.

He made his way out to the parking lot still in a huff. As he slammed his driver's door shut, the neighboring car opened their passenger door and he heard the sickening crunch of metal on metal.

"What the hell?" he yelled.

A large, linebacker type all clad in black crawled out of the car next to him, and James swallowed hard. He debated slamming on the gas in reverse, but suddenly felt frozen in the moment. He cringed waiting for the door to fly open and the punches to follow.

The door did open, but no fists came flying toward his face. Instead a manila envelope dropped in his lap.

"Sorry about the door," a gruff voice stated. "I think you dropped this getting into your car."

James nodded in a relieved daze. "Uh, sure. Whatever man."

The linebacker shut James' door before disappearing into the prison. James carefully opened the envelope, hoping on everything sacred that it wasn't rigged with a bomb. A few stacks of money fell onto his lap followed by a single folded sheet of paper.

"Follow these instructions carefully," it said. James opened the paper, and frowned. Shit.


	19. Chapter 19

James read through the directions a second time. This situation he'd apparently gotten himself into was rapidly spiraling out of control. He frowned and stared at the neatly banded stacks of money.

He'd been offered bribes before. But those cases had been different. The bribes had been to make sure certain pieces of evidence didn't make it to trial. The guilt was obvious, and he never had to think twice about taking the money.

This bounty hunter murder case was apparently on a whole different playing field than he was used to. And absolutely nothing about it was sitting well. There'd been some unusual cases in the past, but this one definitely had "mysterious weird shit" stamped all over it. In blaring bold, red print.

He decided to call Lisa. She picked up on the fifth ring.

"Lis?"

"Yeah?"

"It's your boss."

"Yeah, I gathered that. What's up? How'd it go with Manoso?"

"I'm contemplating dropping the case."

"That good, huh?"

He glanced at the piece of paper in his lap. "It gets better. I think I just got a bribe."

"From Manoso?"

"Not directly. Seems his company wants me to do a little leg work for them."

There was a brief pause of contemplation. "Are we talking 'dark alley' leg work or the 'broad daylight' kind?"

"A few deliveries and a visit to a woman just out of town. I guess both could be a little shady. I won't get further details until I commit one way or the other."

Lisa sighed on the phone. "Do you trust him, Jimmy?"

"No."

"Then why'd you call me? Sounds like your mind is already made up."

James traced circles on his steering wheel. "He requested my services, right?"

"Yeah. A random phone call asking if you'd be interested in taking on a big case. 'Big case' sounded promising, so I agreed to schedule the initial meeting."

"But I've heard of this guy. He's co-owner of a multi-million dollar corporation that has strategic locations in a number of states along the eastern sea board. Don't you think he has his own little personal army of lawyers to deal with this sort of thing?"

"Maybe he's trying to keep the company's involvement to a minimum. Avoiding bad press and all that. Or he could be waiting on some crucial evidence to surface or something. What did you find out about that police report I brought you?"

"Misunderstanding," James answered dully. "The girl's mom freaked and called the cops when she couldn't reach her daughter for a few hours."

"Yikes, talk about not cutting that umbilical cord…"

"Tell me about it… Anyway, it was a dead end."

He could hear Lisa shuffle some papers. "You talk with the owner of the bonds office she worked for yet?"

"I'm a lawyer, Lis. Not a damn PI. I get paid to organize the evidence already there and get my client through their trial. I'm not supposed to be wasting my time playing 'who dunnit.'"

"Maybe there was an angry person involved who skipped bail. Manoso could have been hired to protect the girl, and maybe he showed up to a bad situation just a little too late."

James thought the scenario through for a moment. It wasn't _impossible_. But from the information he'd gathered on the company, the possibility of a protector "showing up late" to a life-threatening situation was slim to none. These guys were lethal professionals, and accidents didn't occur on their watch.

"I'll look into it," James said with sigh. "Any other tidbits on this case that you'd like to volunteer at this time?"

"Not at the moment. But Jimmy?" Lisa added hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"You're ok, right? This case isn't messing with you?"

"It's a giant pain in the ass."

"Yeah, I get that. But you're handling it ok?"

"Yes, why?"

"I just worry about you sometimes. And you've been acting a little…stressed lately."

"I'm always stressed, Lis."

"Well, more than usual. I just want to make sure you're doing ok."

"Hunky dory. Quit acting like my damn mother, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry I asked." She paused. "Jimmy?"

"Yes?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

"What did you decide to do about the deliveries and the money?"

"I have no idea. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"Roger that. See ya back at the office."

The call dropped, and James looked back at the envelope still sitting in his lap. This case was so screwed up! And the worst part was he felt oddly attached to it. Ranger was getting under his skin, and he felt unusually driven to get to the bottom of the murky mess that surrounded his crazy bounty hunter girlfriend.


	20. Chapter 20

"Alright, I'll do it," James said into the phone. "I'll agree to the deliveries and the visit."

"Good to hear," came the gruff voice on the other end. "We'll email you the addresses. The delivery materials will be in with your morning mail."

"Perfect," James sighed.

He hung up the phone then glanced at the contact information he'd been given for the woman who lived out of town. He'd done a quick google search and found that she was a mental health specialist with an office in Newark. James glanced at his watch. It was probably too late to drive there and find out where she fit into this crazy puzzle. He decided to call Lisa and have her set up a meeting for tomorrow.

After a quick lunch, he went back to the office to work on some of his other cases. With any luck it would provide a decent distraction to keep his mind off the Manoso mess. At least for a little while.

He managed to update a handful of documents and complete a few crucial calls by the time Lisa popped by with another late dinner. She handed him a stack of files she'd been adding to for his other clients before clearing a corner of his desk for a box of greasy, steaming pizza. He flipped through some of the folders, admiring the quality of her work and obvious efficiency. She really was quite amazing.

"I probably should give you a raise some time," he said after he polished off his third slice of pizza.

"You keep saying that, but…"

"Here we go…" James rolled his eyes.

"Actions speak louder than words, Jimmy. Just sayin'."

James flipped through some more of the paperwork. "Why didn't you go to law school, Lisa? I mean you've obviously got a knack for all the details and legalese. With a little extra studying, you'd probably pass the bar, no problem."

Lisa shrugged. "School was expensive and I moved out on my own pretty early. Timing was never right, I guess. What made you want to become a lawyer?"

"Good question. I guess in the end I had high hopes of improving the justice system. You know, making sure the creeps of the world didn't get away with crime, corruption, and murder. Justice has always been a fascinating concept, don't you think?"

"It has more gray area than I initially thought," she said on a sigh, "that's for sure. Like this case you're working. It seems a lot less cut and dry than I originally thought."

"Speaking of…how'd it go setting up that appointment for tomorrow?"

"Same old, same old. At least the receptionist was pleasant. Have any idea how all of this fits in with the case?"

"From what I gathered from her website, she's a mental health specialist with a number of areas of expertise. I found it a little interesting that she used to have a large clientele of military veterans. Did some studies on PTSD. Could shed some light on our unanswered "why" question for the Plum murder."

"Yeah?"

"Manoso is former Special Forces."

"You think he missed a therapy session and flipped his lid?"

"I have no idea. Maybe I'm just supposed to get her to testify on Manoso's behalf. Build a case for the plea that he wasn't of sound mind for the murder."

"Interesting." There was some awkward silence. "Would you do something like that?" Lisa asked, eyebrow raised. "You know, just to get him off?"

"No," James answered flatly. "From what I've witnessed, he seems to have better mental clarity than I have. I just want to see what this company of his has going on behind the scenes."

Lisa paused mid bite and started to look worried.

"Don't worry. If things look shady, I'll give the money back and jump ship."

"Not sure that's how these things work, Jimmy. I sure hope you know what you're doing."

James shifted in his seat. "So do I," he thought.


	21. Chapter 21

A week later, James was back at the prison. Ranger sat watching him with his usual cold and emotionless gaze. That was perfectly fine by him, James thought. These client consultations were billed by the minute. The time Ranger wasted in silence translated to a heftier paycheck for James. He relaxed into his chair realizing he had all the time in the world. Although considering the apparent state of his finances, maybe Ranger did too.

After what felt like a small eternity, Ranger finally picked up the phone and broke the silence. "I hear you've been busy lately, Conroy."

"Depends on your definition of busy," James shrugged.

"Meet any interesting people lately?"

"I take it we're talking about Sarah Jenkins."

Ranger gave a subtle head nod. "She tell you anything of interest?"

"Had me fill out a few forms in exchange for some notes from an old file. Seems you saw her for ten months a little over a decade ago. Court mandated."

Ranger gave another nod. "You know anything about PTSD?"

"I know secondhand that it can be hell to deal with.

"Just like with most medical diagnoses, the symptoms range in appearance and severity."

"You had issues with aggression."

James really hadn't been surprised. At all. Ranger looked like he could break someone in half without batting an eye. His physique and body language had always been intimidating. On the surface, he seemed calm and controlled, but it always felt like something was probably simmering just below the surface. From the first day they'd met, it had made James feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"Is this a confession?" James finally asked.

Ranger just shook his head in obvious disappointment. "Listen, Conroy. I'm running out of time here. And you're trying my patience."

Suddenly, without any warning, Ranger was on his feet. He shoved his hands up against the glass, rattling the barrier between them. James jumped back so quickly that his chair fell over.

"What the hell?" James muttered as the guards rushed over to attend to the escalated situation.

"One more stunt like that, Manoso, and it's solitary for you," one of the guards snapped.

Ranger gave him an ice-cold stare before casually slipping a small wad of money into his pocket.

"It won't happen again," he stated quietly. "Just got some bad news is all."

The guard nodded his understanding before making his way back to his post.

James adjusted his clothes and chair before taking his seat again.

"You have understandings like that with all the employees here?" James asked, eyeing the guard.

"Don't need to. Had a momentary lapse of judgement. But you and I aren't finished here yet, so I had to buy us some time."

"Ah. I must have missed something then. You seemed pretty close to sending me on my way again."

"There's something I need you to hear."

Ranger's face was still expressionless, but there was something else there. It was coming from only his eyes. If he didn't think it absurd, James would have thought it was something along the lines of desperation.

"Alright, Manoso. What's weighing on your mind this time?" James asked as he glanced at the clock on the wall. "You better make it quick. We're almost out of time."

"It's the abduction. The real one. I think it's time to tell you about the longest one hundred eighteen hours and thirty-two minutes of my life."

James sat back in his chair and flipped open his notepad. He had a feeling things were about to get interesting.


	22. Chapter 22

_Ranger's POV_

The drive back to Trenton was long and uncomfortable. At least until Stephanie dozed off again. While she slept, her lips remained tightly pressed together expressing her apparent frustration and anger even on a subconscious level.

It made me tighten my grip on the steering wheel for several miles; the only outward sign of my own growing frustration. But eventually I felt my grip relax, and suddenly I was fighting back a smile. I must have had it bad. I loved her even when she was in one of her silly snits.

I decided to call Tank for an update on the car situation. I was glad to hear that Hector had managed to trace the signal from the damaged car to an abandoned store front downtown. But the laptop that had been used was in a dumpster out back. No prints. No personal information. Another burner phone was found, but it had also been wiped down. Someone was definitely well-versed in the destruction of evidence.

We decided to pull any and all security footage from near the abandoned store front. With any luck, our mystery man was caught on camera somewhere. Considering the skilled hacking abilities of the man he'd hired to cause Stephanie's accident, I had a feeling it was a long shot.

We were just outside of Trenton when Stephanie started to stir again. She grimaced as she stretched, suddenly aware of her arm in the cast and the body of sore muscles from the crash. Her gaze focused on the buildings that passed by the windows. Eventually she relaxed in the seat when she realized where we were.

She snuck a glance over at me before speaking. Probably trying to assess my current mood. "Mind taking me back to my place?" she asked casually.

I felt myself blow out a small breath. No doubt she noticed. "Your apartment may have been broken into. Maybe you could come back to Rangeman for a while." I could see her start to make a face. "Just until I have a chance to check things out. Make sure it's safe."

"I need to feed Rex."

"Tank had the guys bring him to my apartment already. Ella's been keeping an eye on him."

She gave an exasperated sigh. "No offense, but I need some space. I know you mean well trying to keep me safe all the time, but right now you're kind of smothering me."

I adjusted slightly in my seat then looked over at her. "I'm worried."

"I know."

"What if something happens?"

"No sweat. I've had training from Batman." She gave me a small grin.

I pulled off to the side of the road. "Your car was hacked, babe. The training was useless."

She rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes. "So, what then? Are you going to lock me up in your brick tower like a modern-day Rapunzel?"

"Don't flatter yourself. Your hair's not that long," I replied in an attempt to lighten the mood. But it was obviously too soon for that. "We're still working on finding out who's behind all of this. Once I neutralize the threat, you're free to go."

She sighed. "How's the investigation coming along?"

The truth was the investigation was moving _very_ slowly. Slower than anything I'd worked on to date. The breadcrumbs that were left behind never amounted to the whole slice of bread. Hell, they didn't even amount to the crust. I still knew very little about Stephanie's attacker, but that wasn't something she needed to hear right now.

"We've got a few leads."

"And that means what exactly?"

"Sitting tight for a while. Keeping your head down."

"How long is a while?" she asked, staring out the window again. "I might need a time frame."

I thought about it for a moment. "Give me two weeks."

"Alright," she finally conceded. "You've got two weeks."

We pulled into the Rangeman garage, and Stephanie sighed as we walked toward the elevator. I felt like a guard in a prison escorting her back to her jail cell. The safe house had felt less claustrophobic. More like a vacation, less like house arrest.

I pressed the button for the fifth floor and turned to Stephanie. "I'm going to work down here for a while. There should be some clean clothes in the closet, and you can wrap your cast in a plastic bag and some medical tape if you want a shower. You know the drill with Ella if you get hungry."

I thought about leaning in for a kiss, but Stephanie's eyes were emotionless and vacant. I hoped it was because she was tired.

"I'll be up later," I added. She gave a barely perceptible nod as I stepped out of the elevator.

It was late, and there was a note for me on the counter when I finally made it back upstairs. It was almost illegible because she'd had to write it left-handed. But I was still able to interpret the message.

"Place not broken into. Will explain later."

"Great," I thought. "More leverage for her to leave." Too bad I was going to hold her to the two-week agreement. Surely _something_ would turn up by then. Then things could hopefully go back to the way they were before. Except I wasn't so sure that's what I wanted anymore. Something to worry about later.

I went and took a quick shower before crawling into bed. Stephanie had surrounded herself with all the pillows creating a pillow nest of sorts. Or a barrier wall. I went and grabbed one of the spare pillows from the closet and tried to ignore the growing distance between us. At least it was only pillows. For now.


	23. Chapter 23

The next morning I woke with something heavy on my chest. I smiled when I realized it was the cast. Stephanie had snuck into my arms some time during the night. Hopefully that was a good sign.

I pulled her a little closer, and she snuggled her face into my neck, giving a soft blissful sigh as she did so. This was part of the reason I could never let anything happen to her. If I somehow lost the ability to hold her in my arms like this, I'd probably die. At least metaphorically.

After several blissful moments of the world centering on the woman in my arms, I finally decided to check the time on my phone. It was definitely later than was typical for me to start my day, and I knew I had things to attend to downstairs. Probably a lot of things.

The casket situation accompanied now by the car fiasco were taking up time I normally spent on company-related business. I'd been delegating more of the work lately to allow for additional time on Stephanie's case. And I wasn't even sure if I was making any progress.

Carefully I moved Stephanie's arm so that I could slide out from under it. Her eyes fluttered open slightly, and she frowned.

"What time is it?" she mumbled.

"A little after seven."

"That's late for you."

I gave a small head nod. "Guess I overslept."

She raised an eyebrow. "Overslept, huh? _That's_ the excuse you're going to go with?"

"Given your disposition last night, I thought it might be safer."

"And the real reason you stayed in bed was…?"

She was always trying to get me to elaborate on how I felt about her. And I was always trying to avoid certain answers. If there came a moment when I absolutely had to let her go, I decided she was better off not knowing any of the specifics.

Which of course was my greatest deception. Mostly to myself. She already knew how I felt even if I'd never verbalized it. And I knew she knew. I had convinced myself ages ago that it was all part of loving Stephanie. To protect her. But it was all a damn lie. I had no idea what the hell I was even doing anymore.

I had always said that a committed relationship with Stephanie was a price too high to pay. But the truth I was quickly starting to uncover was that _not_ having that relationship with her came at an even higher price. Tank was right. I wasn't even sure there was a point to the equation if Stephanie wasn't a part of it.

"I'm an opportunist. Didn't want to miss an opportunity."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm hardly in a condition for that kind of opportunity."

"I know."

"And?"

"Let's just say any moment with you is well spent."

Her mouth dropped open. "Wow," she mouthed.

I leaned onto the bed and kissed her. "I've got a really busy day. Let me know if you need to go anywhere. I'll send some of the guys as a shadow."

Thankfully she was still too stunned by the kiss to argue. She just nodded as I turned to go hop in the shower. But then I stopped when I remembered the note from last night.

"What happened with your apartment?"

Stephanie shook her head slightly to snap out of her daze. "I talked to Lula last night. She apologized for the state of my apartment. Apparently she had a hot date and was looking for a clutch and a pair of shoes that she remembered she'd liked. Guess the place looked like Hurricane Lula had touched down."

"We left the safe house for Hurricane Lula?"

"Face it, we probably would have had to leave by now anyway. Either that or you probably would have killed me."

I felt a small smile try to form. "Probably. Think you can make it through the day without plotting a sneaky escape?"

"I don't know. Keep saying things like you did this morning, and I just might decide to stay indefinitely."

The smile won out. It was some of the best news I'd ever heard.


	24. Chapter 24

Five days. In retrospect, it seems such like an arbitrary amount of time. One hundred twenty hours. That's nothing in the broad scheme of things. A hiccup in a lifetime. It could mean so little…and yet so much.

It had been a week since Stephanie and I had made our deal, and I still wasn't making much progress. The computer hacker had been another dead end. His services were arranged and paid for much like the man who had drugged Stephanie in her apartment. It was all organized over the phone, and the payment was already waiting at a designated location.

I ran a trace on the money, but even those searches came back inconclusive. I was hunting a ghost; a ghost with brains, money, and dark intentions. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I had a feeling I was running out of time.

The surveillance footage near the abandoned business came back mostly grainy and useless. Except for one image. The day of the car crash, a street cam had picked up a man dressed in a black hoodie and mirrored sunglasses two blocks away from the abandoned storefront property where the laptop had been recovered. It might have been nothing, but I was convinced that it was too coincidental to just be nothing.

I called in a specialist to review the footage. He was able to do some diagnostics on John Doe's size, gait, and posture. He even offered an age guesstimate of somewhere between twenty-four and thirty. We ran the data through a program to try and generate a rough image, but without hair color, eye color, and more detail in the body, it was mostly pointless. I had the image blown up and put in my office. It wasn't much to go on, but it was a start.

One afternoon, Stephanie met me in the Rangeman gym for one of her training sessions. As expected, it didn't take long for her to start going crazy upstairs, so we established a compromise where she would get a few chaperoned hours outside the building everyday if she agreed to some additional training. Of course she also had me throw in a night out together and some birthday cake to seal the deal. But I couldn't really say that I minded.

"Any luck finding the bogeyman yet?" she asked as she stood with her back to me on the mats.

I walked silently toward her and stopped two steps short of my target. She had her weight on her left foot. If I toed that knee from behind, she'd probably lose her balance and fall to her knees. Hopefully she'd go down gracefully if I didn't use too much force.

Just before I was about to make my move, she backed up at full force and used her casted arm to land a heavy blow to my stomach.

"Shit," I gasped before doubling over.

Stephanie yanked off her blindfold and rushed over. "Holy crap! Why didn't you move? You _always_ move. Didn't you see that coming?"

I held up one finger as I tried to recalibrate my breathing. "That thing's lethal," I finally managed to say. "Think we should make casts standard issue with the Rangeman crew?"

"Ha. Ha," she said with an eye roll. "But seriously, you're ok, right? I didn't crack a rib or rupture a spleen or anything like that?"

I lifted up my shirt a little and felt around for injuries. "Probably just some internal bruising. Nothing serious."

Stephanie's eyes immediately locked onto the strip of exposed skin; they'd already started to glaze over.

I dropped the shirt back in place. "Babe."

"Right. Sorry. Just a little distracted. What were we talking about?"

"Nothing," I smirked. "Mind if we call it a day? I think my head's not where it should be for dealing with Wonder Woman and her cast of destruction."

Stephanie bent down and started busying herself with her shoelaces. "So…" she started. "I _bested_ you this round?" Her smug smile was cleverly hidden behind her curls.

"I wouldn't say _bested_."

She frowned. "Can't you just let me have _one_ victory? Even if we both know it's artificial?"

"Babe."

She grabbed some of our gear and her water bottle. "You know," she added glancing back at me. "I might be willing to drop it if you take me out tonight. Like someplace nice without the men in black sitting two tables over."

"Take you out?"

"Yeah. I want to wear a dress and some makeup for a change. I need some normalcy. Hell, I just need a date."

"I'm not really that great with the whole dating scene."

She made a face. "It's dinner, Ranger. You're not taking me to prom."

I felt my mouth twitch thinking about Stephanie in one of those hideously pink and puffy prom dresses.

I shrugged. "I might be able to handle a dinner out."

"Just the two of us?" Her pleading eyes were a clear indicator that the house arrest situation was getting to her. Along with the stack of girly magazines that now littered my apartment and the stick-figure drawings that she'd left in creative places. I realized that if I said "no," I'd probably come to regret it.

"Give me a few hours to wrap up some client portfolios, and then…you've got yourself a date."

The smile she gave me brightened her whole face. I can remember every detail of that smile. Because it haunted me for the next one hundred twenty hours.


	25. Chapter 25

"Ranger!" Someone was yelling my name. I tried to focus on the sounds, but my mind was foggy and uncooperative. I used every ounce of concentration I could muster to put my surroundings into place. Something told me it was very urgent.

The colors started swirling into focus. Then the shapes. Then the faces. It was dark and Bobby was hovering over me taking my pulse and shining a bright light in my eyes. I knocked the flashlight out of his hands.

"Where's she?" I slurred. Damn tongue. Now _it_ was being uncooperative.

"Tank's got a team on that. What the hell happened?"

What the hell _had_ happened? I tried to mentally organize a sequence of events. It started with the dinner. Stephanie had wanted a dinner out. No shadow. I'd done a little research and settled on a local place that had rave reviews for their desserts. Steph always loved her dessert.

It had been nice. A little romantic even. She'd worn that black dress with the swirly skirt; the one that always looked better in a heap on my bedroom floor. She'd laughed when I came out wearing my t-shirt and cargoes. It had been a joke. I'd worn one of my tailored suits.

The food was good and the lights were dim. She'd gotten up to use the restroom. I'd given her too long; too many careless minutes. I remembered asking a waitress to check in on her, already starting to feel a knot coil in my stomach. She came back shaking her head. The bathroom was empty.

I walked briskly toward the bathrooms, and scanned the vicinity for a quick exit. A door to the kitchen was across the hall. An exit leading out back was just a few more steps through the kitchen. I sprinted through the door, gun drawn, and called her name. That was all I remembered.

"Tranq dart?" I asked.

"Yeah," Bobby nodded. "We bagged it; already on its way back to the lab." He paused. "You see anyone?"

I shook my head. "I shouldn't have let her out of my sight."

"We'll find her."

A memory flashed in my mind of Stephanie dangling over a bridge. It had taken weeks to fully process the fear that I'd managed to shut down from that moment. I felt something oddly similar start coursing through me.

Somehow I'd struck a nerve. This was different than the casket and the car. This was retaliation. He'd made sure I was the one with her. That I was the one who lost her. He wanted me to know that her fate came down to one foolish moment when I'd let her out of my sight.

I watched Bobby talk with some of the guys as I slowly got to my feet. My body wobbled on muscles that weren't receiving the proper signals from my brain yet.

Bobby rushed over. "I think it's customary to give yourself some time to let that stuff wear off before saving the day."

I gave him a death glare. "I don't really give a shit about customary. I've only got one thing on my mind right now, and it's going to take a hell of a lot more than a tranq dart to keep me from finding her. And let me assure you, when I do, there will be hell to pay."


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: Sorry these chapters have taken a while. Life's been busy, and I have creative ADD. I blame my husband. He's always like "wouldn't it be cool if..." or "there should be a show where..." And then out comes my laptop. So I may have been spreading myself a little too thin lately with too many ideas. On a positive note, I know exactly where this story is going, and I have every intention of blowing your minds with it. Just hang in there._

The car that had taken her was found abandoned in the Trenton Park & Ride. No surprise, it had been completely wiped for prints. My men and I looked for signs of a struggle knowing Stephanie wouldn't go anywhere without a fight, but given the tranq dart that had been used on me, there was a good chance that she had been drugged too.

We ran the registration on the car only to find that it had been reported stolen a couple weeks back. The owner was local, and the car was an older black four-door sedan. Nothing else about it raised any red flags.

The footage from the garage security cameras was interesting but ultimately useless. I numbly watched as a masked man in a dark hoodie pulled Steph's limp body from the trunk of the sedan and drug her over to a waiting black SUV. We ran the plates just before finding the SUV abandoned under a bridge. No sign of the masked man. No Stephanie. No trail to follow.

We all worked through that first night trying to find her. Then we broke off into shifts. Except for me. I morphed into robot mode and forgot about food, sleep, and everything else that I no longer found productive in the search for Stephanie. By the time we'd reached the forty-eight hour mark, my thoughts were cloudy and slow with sleep deprivation.

Tank eyed me from across the control room and gave a slight nod of his head that indicated he wanted a word with me privately. I followed him out with a pretty good idea of what he wanted to say. We ended up in an empty conference room. Tank had me sit as he shut the door.

He rubbed his forehead. "You've gotta take a break," he said shaking his head. "You won't be any good to her if she's in a bad situation and you can barely stand."

"I'm fine," I replied automatically.

Tank slammed a fist onto table. "Like hell you are," he growled. "I don't want to be the bad guy here, but I will if I have to."

I glared up at him. "Don't go there, Tank. You won't like it."

His eyes narrowed. "You're forcing my hand."

I took a slow breath. "Not sure I could sleep even if I tried."

"I think Bobby's got you covered."

I shook my head. "Can't be fighting the effects of drugs if she needs me."

He sighed. "Why don't you go for a run then? I'll come back and check on you after I wrap up some reports. If you still need something to tire you out, I'll go a round or two with you on the mats."

I wanted to argue but found I lacked the energy. I gave an affirmative head nod.

"If I catch you anywhere near that control room, it won't be pretty. Got that Rangeman?"

My eyes narrowed. "For you."

There was a small smile that disappeared almost as quickly as it came. "This isn't your fault," Tank added. "You know that, right?"

"I don't see anyone else in the running."

"You had backup. Two cars less than a block away. She had trackers."

"But we _knew_ he knew about the trackers. I should have made her swallow one."

Tank shook his head. "Bet that would have gone over well."

"And _this_ is better?" On the last word, my voice broke.

"She's got several things in her favor." He paused. "We'll find her."

" _What_ has she got? She's off grid with some crazy SOB who's probably got her drugged out of her mind. There hasn't even been an f-ing ransom note! There's _always_ a ransom note."

"So we know it's not about money."

"It's a power play," I growled. "A stupid, shitty power play. He wants me to know I'm in checkmate."

Tank shifted uncomfortably. "Then the game's over."

I stared blankly at the table. "That's what I'm afraid of."


	27. Chapter 27

I slept off and on for a few hours before calling it quits. The nightmares quickly returned, and there was a point I thought I could even hear her calling my name. The terror in her voice was unmistakable, and my heart wrenched almost to the point that I could hardly breathe. I consoled myself with the thought that it had to mean that she was alive somewhere. It kept me moving forward.

Another day passed without any progress. The tension in the building was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. No one wanted to voice the obvious concerns that we were all having, and no one dared to make eye contact with me.

A phone call came in during the evening from a contact at the city morgue. Tank took the call, and I knew right away from his body language that it wasn't anything good. I watched from across the room as the conversation ended. His eyes caught mine, and I slowly got up and followed him down the hall.

"Talk," I said as soon as we were out of earshot from the others.

"That was Graham. Says there was a Jane Doe that showed up today at the morgue. No ID. She's not in very good condition, but he thought it might be a good idea if you stopped by to see if you might notice any distinguishing features that could help solve her identity puzzle."

I knew what Tank was implying. She looked like Steph. At least enough to warrant my personal inspection.

"Let's go." I turned to head toward the elevator.

Tank caught my arm. "You sure about this?"

"No. But I need to know."

We drove downtown to the morgue. It was one of the longest drives I've ever been on. My mind wouldn't allow for me to grasp what I was about to do or see. It moved me forward on autopilot and left me in such a deep state of numbness that I could have been walking through a mine field on Jupiter and I wouldn't have noticed. The moment we stepped through the door, everything started moving in slow motion.

Graham escorted us to the back with all the metal tables and the giant human refrigerator. One table was occupied in the far corner. The body was draped with a white sheet.

My mind suddenly froze and I was lost to a flash flood of memories. I saw Stephanie in my bed, her naked body wrapped in my sheets. I knew every inch, every contour of her beautiful form. It was terrifying that I couldn't tell right away if the body on the other side of the room belonged to her.

Suddenly we were standing next to the table, and Graham slowly pulled back the sheet. I scanned the lifeless form from toes to face. Her mangled features made me frown, and I turned and walked out of the room. Tank quickly followed.

"Shit," I heard him say under his breath.

"It's not her," I stated once we'd left the building.

Tank raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Positive."

"I just thought…"

"It's not her," I reiterated.

"You think it was to throw you off?"

"I have no idea what to think anymore. But she's still out there. Let's get back to headquarters."

We pulled into the garage a short while later, and I sent Tank on ahead. "I'll be right behind you."

He eyed me suspiciously but didn't argue before heading upstairs. I stopped off on the floor with the infirmary. Bobby was in his office.

I knocked on his door. "Got a minute?"

"For you, maybe two." He spun around in his chair and walked over. "What's up?"

"I have something I need you to take care of for me. I'll send you an email with more of the specifics."

He nodded. "Roger that."

I remained motionless in the doorway.

"Something else, boss?"

"I can't feel my hands, and my chest feels like Lula's sitting on me."

Bobby laughed before grabbing his pen light and flashing it in my eyes. Then he took my pulse before slapping a blood pressure cuff on my arm.

"Holy shit!" he added after getting the read from the cuff. "How long has Lula been sitting on your chest?"

"Since the trip to the morgue."

"Everything ok?"

"Read the email." I turned to head back toward the elevator.

He put his hands on his hips. "Where do you think you're going?"

"My office."

"Yeah, no. You're in the middle of a panic attack, boss man. You can just sit you ass back down, and we'll revisit you leaving once your BP is less stroke level."

I raised an eyebrow. "I expect complete discretion with my...condition."

Bobby smiled. "You can tell the guys you caught me making anatomically correct targets for the firing range. Had to have a chat about what constitutes a good use of my time."

"Like they'd buy that."

Bobby handed me a rolled up paper target. I slowly unrolled it and gave him a look just shy of an eye roll. "You'd be surprised," he winked.


	28. Chapter 28

I'd never admit to it, but the last time I had a panic attack, I was in my early twenties. A special ops mission gone wrong. I'd immediately shifted into robot mode crawling and clawing my way away from all the carnage. It wasn't until my arms and legs finally stopped moving that I realized that my vision had blurred and I could hardly breathe. Looking back, I probably shouldn't have made it home from that one.

Actually, there were a lot of situations I shouldn't have survived. I thought about all the dangerous positions I'd been in over the last decade of my life. Some local, many abroad. I lived an intense and treacherous lifestyle and honestly didn't think twice about it. It's just what I did. It was what I was good at.

And yet here I was having a panic attack again. For reasons I was having a difficult time coming to terms with. This was far from a war zone situation. The sound of gunfire wasn't ringing in my ears; RPG's weren't going off in the distance. And yet the fear was real, tangible even. I was absolutely terrified to find out what my life would be reduced to without her.

I absentmindedly touched the old scar on my thigh beneath my cargoes. It may as well have been over my heart. My mouth twitched thinking about those early apprehensions with Steph. Back when I thought there was no way in hell she would last. I found it all so hilarious at the time, and I kept showing up just to uphold my end of the Henry Higgins deal.

I can't even remember when everything shifted. It was all so gradual. But I'm pretty sure I knew when things shifted for her. And it wasn't that first night we slept together either. She'd always ruled that as a momentary lapse in judgment. Just holding up her end of a twisted bargain. Something I've always regretted.

No, it was the moment I stepped into her apartment with Scrogg and my daughter. It was then that I'd showed her my hand, all cards down on the table. At that moment she'd understood that there weren't any lengths I wouldn't go to keep her safe; even if it meant the exchange of my life for hers. She'd looked at me then with an expression I'll never forget. It was that look of fear and uncertainty of what her life would be like if I was no longer a part of it. And it was something else. Something beautiful.

And I was foolish enough to let it all go unanswered for years.

"Shit," I muttered feeling my chest tighten again.

Bobby glanced up at me from his computer. "Want me to get Tank down here?" he asked. "Might be a good idea to alleviate some of that pent up…whatever it is you've got going on in there."

"He'll probably make you give me a sedative," I stated dryly.

"Sleep wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea. You look like hell."

"I'll sleep when we find her."

Bobby sighed, nodded then went back to doing more paperwork. The unspoken message was clear: he wasn't anticipating a good outcome for all of this either.

The fourth day came and went. My blood pressure returned to a more reasonable level, so Bobby let me once again resume my position as overseer of operations. It wasn't necessarily a good thing. The case was now at a standstill, and it was more than apparent that everyone was starting to lose hope.

I'd resorted to listening to the police scanner in my office. The Trenton PD wasn't great for tracking movement in the shadier parts of the city, but at least it was better than sitting around twiddling my thumbs. No additional unidentified Jane Doe's showed up in the system. Something to be thankful for, I suppose.

I was just heading downstairs to check in with the control room when my phone started ringing. It was a local number I didn't recognize. I connected the call and listened as I held my breath.

"Ranger?" whispered a raspy voice on the other end.

"Who is this?" I growled.

Hoarse sobs suddenly echoed over the phone. "Come find me, please," begged a suddenly familiar voice.

" _Babe_? Where are you? I'm coming. I'm coming right now. Just hold on."

"I," the voice hesitated. "I don't know where I am. It's dark, and..." Her voice trailed off.

I sprinted into the control room and started a trace on the call. The silence around me was deafening. Everyone was watching me wide-eyed, ready to move in an instant. To be honest, I hardly noticed.

"Just stay on the line," I said trying to maintain some composure even though my mind was reeling.

"Ok," came the soft reply. There were more muffled cries. I closed my eyes and tried to send consoling thoughts her way.

"Are you hurt?" I asked. There was a long silence that followed. For a moment I worried the call had dropped.

"Please come find me," she pleaded again. I didn't like what the response implied.

"I'm on my way. Just a few more seconds. We've almost got your location."

I heard her try to take a calming breath, but then the crying started all over again. She was badly shaken. Possibly injured. Terrified. I wanted to fix it all for her. I wanted to see to it that she was never scared like this again.

The coordinates came through on the computer, and I motioned for the core team to head to the garage. We all piled in the armed fleet vehicles and took off like lightning to rescue our missing comrade. It was good I was bringing along backup. Someone would need to corroborate a story that the man that had taken Stephanie hostage was already brutally murdered by the time we got there.


	29. Chapter 29

_A/N: Just a head's up, this chapter is a little disturbing. Nothing overly grotesque, but it definitely creates a vivid picture of what's been going on._

The coordinates brought us to a rustic make-shift cabin near the outskirts of the Pine Barrens. Far enough in to ensure privacy, but not so deeply embedded that you lost all contact with humanity. My guess is that it was used at some point for hunting purposes.

There was a beat-up car parked out front. It had a cracked windshield and a rusted out hood. No signs of blood on the inside or outside. I took that to be a good sign.

My men and I circled the cabin. The only entrance and exit appeared to be the main door. We moved in, and I took the lead as I slowly made my way through the entrance. It was dark inside. No electricity. I brought out my flashlight to enhance visibility and noticed a door to a single room in the back.

I cautiously approached it, my gun raised and ready. I tried the handle, but it was locked. A soft whimper came from inside, and I didn't hesitate another second. My boot hit the door with a powerful thud and the thing cracked off its hinges. Something suddenly came crashing into me. It took me a moment to realize it was her.

I wanted to sigh in relief. The woman I loved was finally back in my arms. But the smells coming from the room were so pungent that it was all I could do to keep from retching. A quick glance around confirmed the similar effects the overpowering stench was having on the rest of the team.

Once the initial shock of the moment had worn off, my focus shifted to Stephanie. Her hair was tangled and matted, and her face was dirty and smeared with dried blood and tears. She was barefoot, still wearing the dress; a ratty blanket covered her shoulders. It smelled like she had thrown up a time or two during her stay, but I didn't care. I wrapped her tightly in my arms and rocked her back and forth.

"You're safe," I said softly over and over. "We found you."

The others gradually moved in and started searching the house. Tank came out of the back room with a very solemn look on his face.

"Think you should see what's back there," he said in my ear as he walked by.

I glanced down at Stephanie still trembling violently in my arms. I didn't want to let her go, but I didn't want her to have to go back in that room either. Bobby stepped over and spared me the tough decision.

"Hey Bomber," he said as he gently brushed back her hair from her still-wild eyes. "I need to check out your injuries to make sure we don't need to make a run to the emergency room. Mind coming with me for just a minute?"

She reluctantly let go of her death grip on me and followed Bobby out to one of the waiting SUV's. I took the opportunity to follow Tank to the back room. I stared blankly at the sight before me. Guess I didn't need a cover story for the abductor after all. The guy was already dead.

No wonder Steph had been so shaken over the phone. She'd been trapped in a dark room with a dead body. A body that she appeared to have killed herself. I rubbed my forehead as I tried to reconstruct the situation.

There was a toppled wooden chair in the corner, assorted restraints, ropes, cuffs. I picked up a strange fuzzy plastic form on the ground. It was the cast from Steph's broken arm. No doubt her abductor had cut it off to restrain her.

It was hard taking in the condition of the rest of the room. I didn't want to comprehend the situation that I suddenly realized had been the reality. There were cups of dirty water and plates with spoiled food; the smells confirmed my suspicions that Steph had probably been living without a toilet for days.

Tank came up behind me. "Guess he should be glad he's already dead," he said nodding over at the crumpled form in the corner. "This place is the very portrait of hell."

I glanced over at the body. It was already bloating and leaking fluids.

"Cause of death?" I asked.

"Puncture wound to the carotid. He bled out." Tank handed me a pair of cuffs that were almost completely covered in dried blood. "Bomber put up one hell of a fight."

I wanted to be proud. She'd done exactly what I'd trained her to do. Somehow she'd managed to escape the restraints and use the resources available to her advantage. Her captor was dead and she wasn't. But at what cost?

No doubt she would've had to look into his eyes and watch as the life slowly drained from them. She would have heard those last sputtering breaths, his blood still warm and fresh on her hands. It was one thing to pull a trigger. It was something completely different to end someone's existence in close hand-to-hand combat.

I clutched my chest realizing I was having another Lula-experience. "I did this," I gasped.

Tank pulled me down into a sitting position and ordered me to breathe. He took my pulse and cursed. "Somebody get Bobby in here," he yelled.

Muffled footsteps clunked around the house then a few came toward me. "Shit," Bobby muttered as he knelt down beside me. "Listen, boss man. Bomber needs you. She's got a long road to recovery ahead of her, and there's no point casting blame where it doesn't belong. It's over, man. The sick SOB's gone. I say we dispose of the body and start working on fixing our girl."

I numbly nodded. But something in the back of my mind had me convinced that this was all far from over.


	30. Chapter 30

Stephanie still had the same glazed and vacant look on her face when I finally made my way back out to the group of waiting SUV's. It wasn't a good sign. Still, I was hoping that if we got her far enough away from here, fed her a dozen Boston Creams, and let her sleep for two days, maybe she'd magically bounce back from all of this. Of course I already knew that the psychological damage went much deeper this time. In fact, I was worried that her eyes might never have that same beautiful light shining behind them again.

Bobby nodded me over for a private conversation away from Stephanie.

I raised an eyebrow. "She say anything yet?"

"Nah, man. Just tears. That break in her arm is pretty gnarly. Probably had to rebreak it and make it worse to get out of those cuffs. I can tell you right now it's probably going to need a surgery or two. And she wouldn't let me look too closely, but she's got some circular burns on her arms and legs. Maybe other places. Cigarettes probably."

My fists clenched tightly. I'd taken too damn long to find her. Some sick asshole had the chance to put out his f-ing cigarettes on her beautiful skin. The red I was seeing was almost unbearable. All the pent up rage had nowhere to go because her tormentor was already dead. Lucky bastard.

"Listen," Bobby continued. "I think we're gonna need to get some professional help for her. I mean, it's Bomber, and we all know how resilient she's been in the past, but I don't want to take any chances with her mental health. She went through some pretty horrific shit these last few days, and she probably had to summon something pretty dark to use those handcuffs the way she did. Talking will help, but we should probably have her see a shrink just to be on the safe side."

I gave a solemn nod. It reminded me too much of that first time I'd come back from being overseas. There was a lot of debriefing and seemingly endless psych evals. And all I'd really wanted to do was go home and hug my mom. After breaking a few tables and chairs maybe. I wondered if Stephanie needed that. A hug from her mother.

Shit. I didn't have a single positive thing to tell that woman about the current state of her daughter. The truth was probably not an option. Helen Plum would positively go ballistic. And that was if she didn't have a stroke first. Probably a best case scenario was early admittance to a rehabilitation center for the mass quantities of alcohol she would undoubtedly consume.

I suddenly had too many thoughts swarming my mind. Given the circumstances, I really didn't know what to do about the body. And honestly, I didn't know what to do with Steph either. The cops were probably better left uninvolved, but at this point I could use all the help I could get. I needed more allied players on my team, but as usual, I didn't necessarily like the cost. Too many irons in the fire.

"Let's take Steph to a hospital out of town," I finally said. "Get her cleaned up, have the arm looked at, maybe get a referral for a shrink. We'll leave the body here as is, and I'm gonna place a few calls with the local PD. I'm still debating about _rearranging_ some of the evidence. I'd really rather not involve Stephanie any further if at all possible."

"Probably be easier if the body disappeared. Less to explain."

"Or more. If someone knows this guy, they might manage to reveal the cover up."

"You're thinking this isn't _the_ guy," Bobby stated flatly.

"I _want_ to believe it's him. But honestly I think he's too calculated for all of this. My guess is the guy in there is your typical killer-for-hire. Lots of muscles, not a lot of brain. And I think if we try to cover all this up, it's going to come back and bite us in the ass. Best play it as straight as possible. For now."

"Roger that. Go make those calls then, and let's get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

Bobby wasn't the only one. Prior to entering the cabin, the location seemed serene and almost peaceful. Lots of trees and fresh air. Natural light came in through the tree branches leaving soft moving shadows all along the ground. But all of it had now been tainted by the horrors that took place inside that small wooden structure.

I frowned realizing that all of her screams and calls for help had probably disappeared into the wind that now whistled through the trees outside. She'd probably felt abandoned and completely alone. It was almost more than I could bear to think about.

I filled the rest of the team in on the tentative plan before making the necessary phone calls. Tank offered to stay behind to deal with the police questioning and paperwork. Once the squad cars started to show up, I gave a brief statement before climbing into the SUV with Stephanie and heading off for the hospital.


	31. Chapter 31

Stephanie spent three days in a hospital in Philadelphia. I made sure she had her own private room and the best care possible. It didn't seem like much considering everything she'd been through, but it was all that I could do at the time.

I stayed with her as much as possible and kept her room stocked with flowers, pastries, and assorted other girly things that Ella had helped put together. But she still spent most of her time in silence, staring blankly at the ceiling or at a wall. She'd offer a weak smile when I'd stop by, but it never lasted very long. I hoped she was just in extended processing mode, that her mind was taking its time to sort through what had happened. It was hard to think that the lengthy processing was probably a best-case scenario.

A psych evaluator stopped by her room on the second day following the surgery on her arm. She gave me a list of the questions she was going to ask but requested that the evaluation with Stephanie be kept between just the two of them. I reluctantly agreed and busied myself with calls to catch up on work and the new investigation with the police.

Stephanie's abductor had been identified. Dominic Wilson. He was already in the legal system with a number of minor offenses and a few drunken brawls that turned violent. The Rangeman side of the investigation hadn't turned up any ties directly related to Stephanie yet. It wasn't really all that surprising. He was probably hired like the others. And this time we didn't have the opportunity to interrogate him.

However, I couldn't shake the feeling that this abduction had felt spur of the moment. It hadn't seemed quite as calculated as the casket or the car accident. Surely that meant there was a mistake to be found somewhere. I made it my personal mission to follow every possible lead this time. Bank statements, call histories, family members, educational history. I hired extra help to start sorting through all the extra paperwork looking for any strange coincidences or acquaintances that seemed suspicious. It was another long shot maybe, but one I was willing to chase if it meant this whole hellish nightmare could be over.

The psychologist came and talked with me after Stephanie's evaluation. Based on her expression, I wasn't exactly sure how everything had gone. She had a better poker face than even I did.

"Ms. Plum is going to need ongoing treatment, but I'm sure you already assumed that," she stated after flipping through some of her notes.

I gave a subtle nod.

"She didn't offer many details about her experience, but we did talk some about coping strategies. I think that's probably where you'll come in. Are you her significant other?"

I found her choice of words amusing. I'd heard the expression a number of times, but I'd never really stopped to think about it before. Significant other. Another individual that one considers highly valued. Someone apart from all the rest. I thought back to the time frame in which Stephanie was gone. For approximately one hundred twenty hours I had only one person occupying my thoughts. If that's not significant, I'm not sure what is.

"Yes."

"The way she talked about you, I figured as much. She's going to need a lot of support to move forward from this. How familiar are you with post-traumatic stress disorder?"

"Very."

She looked me over for a moment. "How many years did you serve?"

"Several."

"Thank you," she said with a soft smile. "Are arrangements already being made for her continued therapy once she's released from the hospital?"

"A referral wouldn't hurt, but I have other options if necessary."

"Is she local?"

"No. Word travels fast where she's from, and I wanted to give her some time to sort through some things before having to play twenty questions."

"Understandable. I'll see what I can do."

I handed her one of my business cards. "She'll probably be staying at this address for a while, but I'll make sure she gets whatever therapy you think would be best to help her work through all of this."

"I'll take that into consideration." She shook my hand and headed off toward the elevators.

Stephanie was curled up in a ball on the bed when I came into her room. The blank stare was once again firmly in place. I leaned with my back against the wall for a long time unsure if I should disturb her. Then out of the blue she started talking.

"What was the name of that FTA who threw all those eggs at me that one time? You know the repeat guy who tried to pee on everyone?"

I sat down in a chair next to her bed and thought for a moment. "You mean Norvil Thompson?"

"Norvil Thompson!" she repeated. "I could _not_ remember that guy's name for the life of me!"

"What made you think of Thompson, babe?"

"I…um…," her voice broke. "I…had a lot of time to think while…"

I reached for her hand and wrapped it securely in my own. Her eyes locked with mine.

"What else did you think about?"

Tears started sliding down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away like she usually did.

"Life," she quietly replied. I kissed her hand. "I'd…um…sit there. In the dark. And…I'd close my eyes. Then I'd…umm…try to relive my favorite memories." Each word was shaky and slow. Painful.

"Norvil Thompson was a favorite memory?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

She shook her head. "Something you said to me then was. It took me a while to remember when you'd said it."

I tried to recall the details from that particular take-down. All I could remember was Stephanie completely covered in food. "What did I say?"

"Something I needed to hear. Something I needed to believe in when…" she trailed off. "You said we were in this together."

I leaned over and kissed her tear-stained lips. "Don't you _ever_ forget that, babe."


	32. Chapter 32

_Creepy Stalker's POV_

He sat nursing his cooling mug of tea as the TV flickered quietly in the background. This was an interesting turn of events. He'd suspected something had gone wrong with the girl when Wilson hadn't made his nightly call. He was a little surprised to see a small blurb in the news about a budding police investigation centered on a body found in the Pine Barrens. It had been brief. Not very specific. Apparently they were still working on uncovering all the details. But the situation still wasn't sitting well with him.

After all, he'd been uncharacteristically impulsive. When he'd watched their vehicle arrive at the restaurant that night, he'd felt an unusual sense of urgency. They'd both disappeared out of town for a brief time following the car accident; something he hadn't anticipated. From earlier observations, he was well aware that Ranger was capable of disappearing. Permanently. He suddenly worried that he'd spooked his target; pushed him too hard too fast.

When they suddenly appeared in town again, he'd felt a strange rush of relief. But he desperately wanted to reestablish his upper hand. Take back his control of the situation. Except he hadn't had as much time to plan this round.

Parts of it were ready to go. Getaway vehicles, methods to subdue his targets, the location. But he hadn't settled on a suitable employee to execute the operation. All the candidates were iffy. Their skills unrefined. This part of the plan required direct and extended contact with the girl; he wanted to be sure that his hired recruit would follow his instructions to a "t". At this stage of the game, there wasn't room for any mistakes.

Dominic Wilson had been one of the front runners. Someone he assumed could be easily manipulated. But his judgment was questionable. His record demonstrated a history of impulsive aggression and ultimately a lacking ability to see the bigger picture. The kidnapping wouldn't be the problem. The issue was more with the time spent with the girl. She knew how to handle herself, and there was the potential that Wilson might do something stupid.

And he did. He'd apparently gone and got himself killed. Before the mission was complete. He frowned as he flipped through his notebook. All the work and planning to destroy the man in black seemed so pointless now. Ranger would no doubt disappear after this. He was too clever and calculated not to. His fists clenched in tight, angry balls as he finally admitted to himself that the perfect checkmate was no longer in play.

Defeat was something that never sat well with him. Especially when it came at the hand of someone he despised. Ranger didn't deserve his life of success. His professional reputation had been acquired through intimidation and bullying. He _hated_ bullies. Especially those who paraded around behind masks of honor and righteousness. The whole thing disgusted him.

He finished his tea and turned off the TV. Then he took his old notepad and tossed it in the trash. Maybe the _perfect_ checkmate was no longer in play, he mused, but he still had a few clever tricks up his sleeve.


	33. Chapter 33

_Ranger's POV_

I took her back to Rangeman after her stay at the hospital. And for once Stephanie didn't argue. Ironically I would have felt better if she had.

We took the elevator up to seven, and I tried to ignore how small and fragile she seemed. After all, I was used to her presence completely filling the spaces she occupied. I'd seen her scared before. Really scared. Terrified even. But I guess I'd never seen her this small.

Once inside the apartment, Stephanie dropped her things and went straight for the bedroom. Without making a sound, she pulled off her shoes and shimmied out of her pants before crawling into the bed. I just stood and watched not sure what to do next.

I'd always been able to read Stephanie in the past. Her looks, her smiles. Her tears. The woman I was looking at now seemed foreign and unfamiliar. She was like a turtle who had pulled deep inside her shell. And I was extremely hesitant to crawl inside with her. It was sacred space, and I didn't want to intrude uninvited. But I also wasn't sure if this was the time to wait for an invitation.

I made a decision and started unlacing my boots. At first I just sat on the bed next to her and relished the fact that she was safe, that I no longer felt like I was moments away from suffocating. Eventually my thoughts drifted. I'd just started mentally going over the details of the cabin again when I noticed Stephanie shivering beside me.

I moved closer to her without even thinking, my arms pulling her tightly against me in a protective embrace. She started mumbling incoherently, and I noticed her cheeks were damp again from tears. I brushed the hair from her face and told her that she was safe, but I was worried she couldn't hear me.

Eventually the shivers stopped, and I gradually relaxed my hold. Her breathing grew steady again as her body uncoiled from the tight ball she'd been in. She'd obviously been having a nightmare. Or worse, she had been reliving the hellish events from the cabin.

I readjusted slightly and absentmindedly began to stroke her arm. Her eyes suddenly sprang open. And that's when all the screaming started.

I've seen some pretty crazy shit in my lifetime. Like grown men crying and calling for their mothers. But I'd never heard anything quite like those screams. They were raw and guttural, almost animalistic. And they didn't stop.

After ten minutes of trying to calm her, I finally called for Bobby. He showed up a few minutes later, looked her over and checked her vitals before deciding to give her a sedative. The screams slowly faded until Stephanie was once again motionless and quiet.

Bobby shook his head. "That was intense. How long had she been going like that?"

"Not very long. I couldn't get her to come out of it."

Bobby ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, man. She's fighting some serious demons, and I don't like the idea of having to dope her up all the time. She could probably use the opportunity to get that bad shit out."

I glanced over at Stephanie. "Any suggestions?"

"I've got a few psych books I could leave for you to look through, but I'm mostly familiar with how to deal with the meatheads around here. Guys tend to do a lot of the physical release stuff. Break things, shoot things, punch each other senseless. Get all that out of your system, and you're usually good to go. Girls, I'm thinking not so much. They're wired different. To be honest, it's kind of unchartered territory for me."

I gave him a look.

"You know what I mean."

There was a long stretch of silence as I watched Stephanie sleep. "What the hell do you think happened out there?"

Bobby shook his head. "Still hasn't said much, has she?"

"Wouldn't even talk to the psych evaluator at the hospital."

More silence. "Just give it some time, boss. She'll pull through. Pretty sure she's got all she needs right here. Some down time, someone to listen, and a whole shitload of that romanticky, fairytale, make-you-sick-to-your-stomach, mushy-ass love stuff."

I narrowed my eyes.

He shrugged. "Love heals, man. Did wonders for you."

I just stared at him because I couldn't bring myself to roll my eyes. But I had to admit, he wasn't far off the mark. There had been a number of changes in my life since Stephanie had been a part of it. And all of it had been for the better.

Bobby left once he'd given Steph a final once-over. I climbed back on the bed and took my place once again next to the woman I knew I could never live without. As she slept, I reached for my phone on the bedside table to start sorting through some emails. But I came across something else instead. A small piece of paper with a few scribbled words and thoughts.

I'd somehow forgotten about it amidst all the craziness of finding Stephanie and the mess of events that had followed. It was the early stages of an idea. Something complex in execution but ultimately brilliant if successful.

I glanced back over the roughly scribbled plan and quickly started adding to it. It would take a large number of people working flawlessly together to execute, which meant an infinite number of possibilities for things to go wrong. But if it was successful… I felt a small smile tip the corners of my mouth. If it was successful then I'd finally have a possible solution for the Carlos/Stephanie equation.


	34. Chapter 34

_A/N: Getting closer to wrapping up this story, but I'm not quite there yet. Hopefully the next time I update, it will be the final chapters. Until then, enjoy this set of chapters! Thanks for reading! (And to the anonymous guest who left the longer review last time, you totally made my day!)_

Those first few days after the hospital stay were probably some of the most difficult I'd ever gone through. There were several more nights of nightmares and lots more tears, but I think her continued silence was probably the worst. Stephanie hardly said anything. She just sat. Or slept.

After a couple days of staying with her in the apartment, I decided it best for both of us to resume my regular work schedule on the fifth floor. I'd still stop in periodically to check in on her, and I even organized some visits with her friends, but I noticed she still wasn't showing much improvement. I kept reminding myself what Bobby had said that first day. She probably just needed time.

One of the best therapies for Stephanie ended up being something completely unplanned and unexpected. I'd set up a meeting with Morelli to see if he' heard any updates on the Dominic Wilson investigation, and over the course of our conversation, the focus inevitably shifted to Stephanie.

Morelli had always been protective of her, and I figured he probably blamed me on some level for what had happened. But he was a relatively smart guy and kept most of his judgments and opinions to himself. Probably figured a repeat of the Hawaii brawl wouldn't be very productive anyway. Especially considering he hadn't been a part of Stephanie's romantic life in a while.

"How is she?" he asked casually after we wrapped up our conversation on Wilson.

"Hard to say. She's not really talking much."

Morelli frowned. "Pretty serious then."

I gave a subtle nod.

"She still eating donuts?"

"Bites. On occasion."

"Damn."

Another nod. "Honestly it's the worst I've seen her."

Morelli sighed. "Listen, I don't even know if it'll help, but let me bring Bob by sometime. She's got a thing for that dog, and I hear they use animals in therapy all the time. Maybe those two can have a heart-to-heart. Sort through some of the messed up shit she went through."

I wanted to roll my eyes. I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of having a furry, four-legged garbage disposal roaming around on seven. But if he somehow managed to help Stephanie move past her recent experience…

"Would tomorrow be too soon?"

Morelli raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise. "You sure? You may want more time to Bob-proof your space."

"I'm sure."

"Guess I'll drop him by on my way to work then. You think it'd be ok with Steph if I stopped in and said hi?"

I wasn't really sure she'd care one way or the other, but I knew _I_ wasn't a big fan of the idea. Sure we weren't competing for her attention anymore, but the whole thing still felt kind of awkward anyway. Mostly because I was pretty sure she really had been in love with him at some point. Maybe a part of her always would be. Of course Morelli didn't need to know all that.

"Couldn't hurt," I offered. Hopefully it didn't sound as forced as it felt.

Morelli slid out of the booth. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow then. Give Stephanie my best."

I shifted slightly in my seat. "One last thing before you go."

Morelli glanced back, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"I've been fighting some shadows lately. There may come a time when I could use some help to flip on the lights." I paused. "Can I count you in?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"What's the likelihood I'll get to keep my job afterward?"

I shrugged. "At this point I'd say pretty high, but I don't like to make promises I can't keep."

"I'll think it over and let you know when I drop Bob off tomorrow."

"Seems fair. Later Morelli."

He gave me a nod then disappeared out the door.

True to his word, Morelli dropped Bob off early the next morning. Stephanie gave a small smile before returning to her stoic silence. It was just as well. Given her reaction, Morelli decided not to stay very long. Said he'd drop by after work to collect Bob and left almost as soon as he came. My guess was seeing Steph like that was harder than he thought it would be.

Bob took a few minutes to check out the new space before trotting over to the couch and laying his slobbery face on Stephanie's leg. I watched for a moment before heading downstairs curious how Stephanie would react. At first it seemed like operation "dog therapy" wasn't going to be very effective. Then out of nowhere, Stephanie started petting Bob's head.

"Hi Bob," I heard her whisper.

Bob gave a small whine before licking her hand. Stephanie watched him for a while before going back to staring at the wall, but she continued to stroke Bob's head. It wasn't the miraculous recovery I'd been secretly hoping for, but at least it was something.

I made my way downstairs and pulled Tank into my office. He took a seat in the chair across from me, and I passed him the piece of paper with the scribbled notes.

He eyed it carefully before looking back up at me. "This what I think it is?" he asked.

"You tell me."

"Looks to me like a really risky and probably stupid idea."

"Then it's exactly what you think it is."

He read through the notes again. "You realize there's a really large margin for error, right?"

I leaned back in my chair. "Figured you'd say something like that."

"I always tell it like it is."

"Does that mean I can't count on you for this one?"

He sighed. "It means I don't like where all this could end up. There's only so much we can do if things take a bad turn and start heading south."

"Then let's make sure they don't."

There were several moments of contemplative silence. "What happens if you're wrong and he doesn't show?"

I pointed to a phrase at the bottom of the paper. "There's a contingency plan."

"Some contingency plan," Tank muttered. He glanced up at me again. "You talk with Bomber about all this yet?"

I gave him a look. "She's not in a good place right now. I can't imagine springing all this on her would be very wise at the moment."

"So there's a couple ways this plays out then."

"Potentially."

"You're absolutely sure about all this? I mean, that's about as close to jumping off a cliff blindfolded as you can get."

"As long as I'm jumping with her."

Another sigh. Tank pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shit. I sure hope you know what you're doing with all this, Rangeman"

I handed him the note I'd just received from Morelli. "We've got another player on the team. Might prove pretty useful."

Tank read then refolded the note. "You got a timeframe lined up for all this yet?"

"Given some of the logistics, it's probably gonna have to be sooner than later. But ultimately I'll have to wait and see what Stephanie has to say. With a little luck, we might be able to start moving forward in a week or two."

"Great," Tank added sarcastically. "A week or two before all hell breaks loose."

Little did he know how prophetic those words would soon turn out to be.


	35. Chapter 35

Stephanie was sleeping in a ball on the couch when I finally made it back up to seven to check on her. Ella had popped in periodically throughout the day to make sure Stephanie had everything she needed. When I asked her if she wanted bonus pay for having to deal with Bob, she just smiled her usual charming smile and said she'd gladly do anything to help Stephanie. She wasn't the only one.

Bob was still lying next to the couch, dutifully keeping watch over his human when I walked through the door. He raised his head to acknowledge my presence but quickly returned to his "at ease" positon once he decided I wasn't a threat. I had to admit, he was kind of starting to grow on me.

I knelt down and gave him a pat between the ears. He eagerly sat up and gave me one of his dopey Bob grins.

"How is she?" I asked, nodding over at Stephanie.

Bob slumped down and gave what seemed like a giant sigh.

"Were you just talking to Bob?"

I glanced over at the couch. Stephanie's eyes were now open, and there was a subtle smirk lingering on her face.

It was the closest thing I'd seen to the old Stephanie in days. And it was all the encouragement I needed to continue.

"Sheesh, Bob," I said turning my attention back to the dog. "You'd think she'd never seen someone talk to a dog before. We've had lots of conversations together, haven't we buddy?" I gave Bob another pat on the head feeling like a complete moron. But I didn't care.

He gave me a weird dog smile before letting out a gigantic burp. I stood back and frowned. What the hell had Morelli been feeding him?

Then I heard it. The most beautiful sound in the world. Stephanie laughing. The real, hearty, genuine laugh that could fill an entire room. I was so overcome by the moment that I quickly pulled her into my arms and hugged her in a crushing embrace.

But the moment quickly faded, and I suddenly realized Steph was pushing away from me. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor as she turned and crawled back onto the couch. Bob nudged passed me and came and sat down beside her.

I just stood in a dazed silence. "Sorry, babe. Did I do something wrong?"

"Don't. Please," she croaked. Tears were sliding down her cheeks again.

I'd never felt so helpless in my life. I had no idea what had just happened. One second I was there with the woman I'd fallen in love with, and the next I was left with just the turtle shell again. I'd seen people retreat into themselves like this before, but never quite to this extent. And honestly it was never someone I was this close to.

I sat down next to her on the couch and leaned so my elbows rested on my knees. "What don't you want to tell me, babe?" I asked gently. "Based on personal experience, it's much easier to cope with something if you let someone share the load. And I don't care how heavy it is. I'd gladly take it all if I could."

She started petting Bob again. Her eyes glazed, and she was once again lost to a place I didn't have access to.

I leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'll be waiting right here for you, babe. Whatever hell you're going through, just know you don't have to brave it alone. Because like you said earlier, we're in this together. And we'll make it through together."

She didn't respond.


	36. Chapter 36

Another few days passed, and although things were finally settling back into the normal routine at Rangeman, I still felt like a stranger in my own home. Ella said that she'd noticed Stephanie was talking more now that Bob had started coming by on a regular basis. I felt relieved and yet slightly disconcerted. She still would hardly look at me when we were together in the evenings.

I tried talking to her. I tried being quiet with her. I tried holding her. And I tried giving her space. Nothing seemed to change her response. Eventually I decided it might be a good idea to give her a place of her own on the fourth floor. Just so she wasn't forced to share space if she really didn't want to. I told her about my idea one night after dinner.

"There's an open apartment on four," I began after clearing the dishes from the table.

Stephanie sat nibbling on a piece of garlic bread.

"I thought you might be interested in moving in."

The vacant look left her eyes as she focused them on me. She didn't say anything.

"I should've considered it earlier. I know how you like having your own space."

There was a long silence before she surprised me by breaking it. "Is that where you think I should be?"

The question threw me. I wanted her with me. But I also wanted to make sure it was something she wanted too. It was probably a discussion I should have had with her prior to coming back from the hospital.

I gave a small breath. My equivalent of a sigh. "I'm not sure what _I_ think has anything to do with this. I'm just not sure how comfortable you are here on seven."

She gave a small frown before getting up from the table and heading for the bedroom. When I came in later that night to get ready for bed, she was sound asleep, and there was a note on my pillow with two frustrating words: four's fine.

I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours unable to fall asleep. There were moments when I was pretty sure Stephanie wasn't sleeping either, but we both just continued to lay there in silence. Thankfully exhaustion finally took over as I slipped into a restless sleep.

At some point I drifted into a dream. One of my favorites that I recognized almost immediately. Stephanie's legs were straddling my hips and her lips were brushing soft kisses along my chest. She was wearing one of my black t-shirts that strategically hid what I suddenly and desperately wanted to touch and see. I slid my hands underneath and brushed her warm skin with my knuckles as I slowly pulled the shirt up and over her head. I traced lazy lines along the length of her body as she leaned down to kiss me again.

"I've missed you," I breathed against her lips.

"I've missed you too," she said back.

I reached up to touch her face and froze when I noticed her cheek was damp from tears. My eyes suddenly opened to a very real Stephanie sitting on top of me. It hadn't been a dream after all.

She leaned down to kiss me again, but I pushed her back. "Babe?" I asked. If she continued with the kissing, I wasn't sure how long my self-control would last.

"Mmm?" she purred. She took my hands and slowly slid them down her body. I sucked in a breath.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You don't have to…"

She frowned as more tears slid down her cheeks. "Shit," she muttered as she rolled off of me.

I tried to pull her back into my arms, but she resisted. Her body tensed, and she quickly crawled under the covers with her back to me.

"Is that something you need, babe?"

"I…don't know," she whispered.

"We can… I don't mind… I just…" Apparently I couldn't finish a sentence to save my life.

"You're making this worse," she groaned.

"I'm sorry. You know I'll do anything for you."

She turned over. "Then stop looking at me like that!"

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Like what?"

"Like I'm fragile. Or broken. Or whatever the hell it is you think I am. You've _never_ looked at me like that. Ever. You've always looked at me like you're ten seconds away from tearing my clothes off. But these last several days… I just thought maybe if you were half-asleep… But then… Gosh!" She flipped back over in a disgruntled huff.

I was suddenly confused and relieved and a million other things all at once. Here I thought I was being helpful and supportive, and all she'd wanted was to slip back into life like it had been before. I remembered having similar feelings coming back from some of my away missions. It suddenly dawned on me what she needed. I felt like a fool for not recognizing it sooner. She needed to feel like things hadn't changed. Like she hadn't changed.

My fingers brushed her bare arm, and she shivered but didn't pull away. I decided to test the waters further by brushing my lips across her exposed shoulder. She slowly inched her way closer to me. My heart started racing like it had that first night we'd spent together.

"Is this look better, babe?" I asked as I gently rolled her onto her back.

She raked her fingers through my hair with her good arm. "You're moving in the right direction."

A surge of heat flashed through me, and I couldn't help but smile.


	37. Chapter 37

We made love and talked through the remainder of the night. I told her about the longest five days of my life and the subsequent panic attacks, and she told me what she remembered of her cabin stay. It pained me to see her talk about it with such emotional detachment. It was as if she had to process everything like it had happened to someone else.

I kissed every healing scar on her body from the burns and the handcuffs. And she cried. A lot. But at least the tears came from eyes that were no longer hollow and vacant. There was still a faint glimmer of that beautiful light shining behind them.

When my alarm finally went off the next morning, I was physically and emotionally spent. But it was more than worth it. Unfortunately, there was still one more thing we needed to discuss.

I ran my fingers through the curls that were spread in a haphazard mess across my chest. "Babe?"

Stephanie didn't respond.

I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Still no response. I carefully slid her onto one of the adjacent pillows and realized she'd left a small trail of drool on me. My shoulders shook in silent laughter. She was so damn adorable sometimes.

I went and hopped in the shower and was just lacing up my boots when I noticed Stephanie start to stir on the bed next to me.

"Where are you going?" she mumbled.

"Work."

She groaned. "No rest for the wicked?"

I leaned over and kissed her. "Something like that." I felt her smile against my lips. "When you feel up to it, come swing by my office. There's something I need to discuss with you."

"Didn't you do enough of that last night?"

"Different kind of discussion, babe."

"So no coming downstairs in an oversized t-shirt and nothing else. Got it."

The fact that she was flirting with me made me feel so good that I thought I might actually self-combust. I playfully nipped at her ear. "You can come down in anything you want. Just know that for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Newton's third law, babe."

"Sounds more like a nerdy pickup line to me."

"Would it have worked on you?" I asked sliding an exploratory hand under the covers.

"Mmmm…not a chance," she moaned.

"Liar."

By the time Stephanie made it downstairs, it was nearing lunch time. I moved some files off my desk and glanced up at her.

"Want to do lunch up on seven?"

Stephanie bit her lower lip. "Actually…I'd kill for a junky fast food cheeseburger right about now."

I did a mental grimace. "Can we at least bring it back here?"

"Wait, are you actually agreeing to a cheeseburger?"

"I'll probably stick with Ella's cooking, but I'll get you whatever you want."

She took a few steps closer. "This isn't some clever ploy to get lucky later, is it?"

I feigned a shocked expression. She smiled.

Twenty minutes later we were back upstairs with a giant bag of toxic, greasy food for Steph and a turkey sandwich on wheat for me. Stephanie took an enormous bite out of a bacon double cheeseburger and groaned in satisfaction.

"Oh my gosh! You have no idea what you're missing."

With the way she was carrying on, I knew _exactly_ what _I_ was missing. And it had nothing to do with a cheeseburger.

"Want a bite?" she offered.

I shook my head. "Thanks, but no."

She grabbed a few fries and shoved them in her mouth. "So what do we need to talk about?"

"A plan for the future."

"Future planning," she mused. "Sounds very unRanger."

"It is."

I put two folders on the table in front of her.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm about to be debriefed on a top secret military op?"

"There may be some similarities."

She opened the first folder and nearly choked on a bite of food. "Holy crap! Is this for real?" she asked, eyes wide.

"I'm done playing games."

"Wow. No kidding."

She eyed the other folder. "What's in here?"

"A possibility."

She opened it and read through the contents. I was a little worried she wouldn't understand all the implications.

She leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. "But what would happen to…"

"All of this?" I interrupted.

"Yeah."

"Would it matter?"

"I guess not really, no."

"Is it something you'd consider?" I could tell she recognized the touch of uncertainty in my voice.

"Yes." The response came faster than I'd expected. "But I have time to think about it, right? I mean, this is like a _really_ big deal here."

"It is. And yes, you have time to consider it."

She looked back through the folder. "How long?"

"I wish I could give you all the time you need, but we're kind of on a tight schedule. You've got a couple days to decide."

She looked up at me again, her eyes boring holes straight into my soul. "Is this what you want?" she asked.

I didn't even have to think. "Yes."


	38. Chapter 38

_A/N: At long last, I give you the conclusion to Smoke and Mirrors. I warn you, DO NOT skip ahead nor read through this quickly. You will be completely confused if you do. Hope you all enjoy!_

I spent the next few days in and out of meetings. Major changes to the company were already under way, and a number of letters had already been sent to the preferred customers to fill them in on what was to be expected over the next few months of transition. There weren't many questions, but a few long-term clients requested the opportunity to speak with me personally, which I had expected. I assured them the quality of service wouldn't change and that I had full confidence in the direction things were now headed.

As the meetings ended, I felt a strange sense of finality. I had spent most of my waking moments over the last several years accumulating these clients. Some now friends. Through sweat, blood, and dedication, I'd proven to them the type of company I represented. Now my reputation spoke for itself. And here I was about to leave it all behind. It was something that the Ranger from even a year ago would never have even considered.

Funny how plans change.

Tank stopped by late one night with some files. From their appearance, I could tell they weren't very important. He probably just wanted an excuse to talk.

"Everything good downstairs?" I asked without looking up as I added a few things to a spreadsheet.

Tank sat in the chair across from me. "This place runs like a machine. You know that."

"Something else I should know about then?"

He sighed. "I just never thought I'd see the day."

I glanced up. Honestly? I never thought I would either.

"You didn't think I'd be doing this forever, did you?"

He shrugged. "At least until you got old and went out in a big firefight."

I laughed. "I always expected that to happen when I was young and stupid."

Tank raised an eyebrow. "There's still time…"

I leaned my elbows on my desk and steepled my fingers. "There's never enough time. Not for all the plans you make when you're young."

"So what's the new plan?"

"For now, it's solving the puzzle. Eliminating the threat. Once that's taken care of, I'll fill you in on some of the other ideas I've had lately. For example, how do you feel about international travel?"

There was a hint of a smile. "Depends. Am I flying first class?"

"Is there any other way to fly?"

He barked a laugh. "Touche." Then his expression changed. Softened slightly and became more serious. "She give you an answer yet?"

I shook my head. "It's a big decision. You said yourself it's like jumping off a cliff blindfolded."

"Ah, but from what I hear, Bomber's got a history of taking reckless jumps."

He was obviously referring to the time Stephanie jumped off her roof when she was a kid. Even then, her need to fly outweighed her concern for the laws of gravity. I was counting on the fact that she still held onto a bit of that unhindered reckless abandon. She'd need it if she chose the contents of that second folder.

"She's smart. She'll make the right decision. Whichever decision she chooses."

"And you're still good with that contingency plan?"

"It's not my favorite, but I've lived through hell before. Besides, if all goes well, it shouldn't come down to that. Speaking of, Bobby give you any updates yet?"

Tank crossed his arms over his massive chest. "Preliminaries are all taken care of."

"Perfect." The conversation felt complete, but Tank still lingered. "Something else?"

"It's gonna be different around here." The gruffness of his voice strategically hid the underlying emotion. "Never thought I'd actually miss the old days with that impulsive, trigger-happy pretty boy from Special Forces."

I felt the corners of my mouth turn up in a small smile. "He never would've made it very far if it wasn't for a giant tank always covering his ass."

"Damn straight." Tank got up to leave. "You ever tell these lugheads around here I said it, and I'll kill you. But it's been an honor, Carlos. Truly."

I stood and shook his hand. "The honor's been all mine."


	39. Chapter 39

I was slightly surprised that I hadn't seen Stephanie all day. Since our late-night therapy session, she'd been coming downstairs more frequently, and I could usually count on a shared lunch or at least a quick cup of coffee together. I guess it was possible I'd been in meetings when she'd dropped by.

I'd had a particularly full day, and Bobby had finally caught up with me to bring me up to speed on the current state of the plan. He wasn't entirely convinced it was going to work as well as I'd been anticipating, but at least he was still feeling optimistic. Things were definitely falling into place. All that was left really was the answer from Stephanie.

The apartment was dark by the time I finally made my way back up to seven. I set my keys on the table in the entryway and glanced around. From the appearance of things, Stephanie had probably already gone to bed. I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and unlaced my boots before making my way down the hall toward the bedroom.

I pushed open the door and nearly laughed at what I saw. The room was dimly lit with an assortment of LED candles, two champagne glasses sat on the bedside table. And then there was Stephanie. Hair in soft curls, dressed in a sexy black dress…and completely passed out with a magazine partly covering her face.

I gently lifted the magazine off her and shook my head. It was still one of life's great mysteries why I was so in love with this woman.

She sighed and curled into one of the pillows as I leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"What's all this?" I asked softly.

Her eyes fluttered open. "I was going to surprise you," she mumbled.

"I'd say you were pretty successful."

She groaned. "I'll bet. Why the late night?"

"Had a talk with Bobby again."

"Everything alright?"

"Appears to be."

She stretched and sat up. "I think I probably looked better an hour ago," she said as she fluffed her hair and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress.

"Beautiful as always," I smiled as I tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "What's the occasion?"

She reached over to the nightstand and handed me a folder. "I guess we're celebrating the final days of Stephanie Plum."

I stared at her for several long moments trying to get an honest read on the situation. "Are you sure about this, babe? I don't want you feeling like you're being forced into doing something here. It's just one of the ways for all of this to play out. There are other options."

"I know," she added quietly. "Are you…having second thoughts?"

"No." She breathed a small sigh of relief. "I just want you to be sure."

She pulled me onto the bed next to her. "I get it," she began.

"I know, but…"

"No," she interrupted taking my hand, "I really get it. I get why you've never wanted me close. Your life really doesn't allow for it. Can't allow for it. You can't _afford_ to have those kinds of relationships. It's what you've been telling me for years. And I never understood it before. Not really. But just look what happened when I was gone for five days."

I pulled her close not wanting to relive the experience.

"I guess I just can't be a part of the Ranger equation. And I feel like the plan in this folder does a pretty thorough job of fixing that. With the possibility of…" she trailed off.

"Of?"

"Something different." She heaved a sigh. "Maybe we just weren't meant to be together in this life. You with your dark past and me with the expected future as a cookie-cutter housewife."

I gave her a look. "Babe."

"It's true. We probably never should've been more than coworkers." She glanced up at me. "I totally blame you for all of that, by the way. You with all your street swagger and blinding confidence. Just went and sucked me in right from the beginning."

I twitched a small smile. "Wasn't the overall charm and staggering sex appeal, huh?"

She laughed. "You were _far_ from charming those first few months. You didn't even offer me a towel right away when I was handcuffed to my shower curtain rod."

I shrugged. "That wasn't _entirely_ my fault. _You_ didn't try to cover anything up."

"I was freezing, and my arm was numb!"

She attempted a playful jab to my chest, but I caught her hand before she connected. Then I laced my fingers with hers before slowly pushing her arms above her head and settling on top of her. Her eyes held mine for what felt like an eternity. They were once again that bright, vibrant blue that sparkled with the essence of everything that was Stephanie. The blue that the rest of the world always paled against in comparison.

"So this is goodbye to Stephanie Plum?" I asked as my lips brushed her neck.

"I guess so."

"Best say goodbye properly then." I flashed a sly grin before giving Stephanie the best going away party of her life.


	40. Chapter 40

_Creepy Stalker POV_

He'd been right. At least to an extent. The man in black had barely left his secure brick sanctuary since the cabin disaster with Wilson. Fortunately, from the intel he'd gathered, Ranger was at least still in the building. Hadn't done something impulsive like disappearing into the night with the girl. Yet the implications were obvious. Time was running out.

He'd been too tired at night lately to focus on his new strategy to ruin the man in black. The pressure of a dwindling timeframe had been getting to him, and he now felt his ideas lacked forethought and precision. They were impulsive. Bordering juvenile. Which undoubtedly meant more room for mistakes. More room for failure.

His control was slipping. Maybe even his sanity. But he refused to give up on what he'd started. He'd either take down his man. Or die trying.


	41. Chapter 41

_Ranger POV_

I sat at my desk that morning feeling a growing sense of anticipation. And dread. Everything was in place. And as far as I could tell, everything was going according to plan.

I'd stationed my men strategically around the building. Surveillance was running in and out of her apartment. Bobby was ready and waiting with his equipment.

On other missions, this was usually when I felt a last-minute surge of confidence. Approach any situation with enough strategic planning and confidence, and it was practically impossible to fail. But there was a variable on this mission that still left me feeling a small shred of doubt. Everything could go perfectly according to plan, but if my hunch was wrong and our mystery guest didn't show… Let's just say, no one wanted that outcome.

I checked a few remaining emails and rearranged some files on my desk before heading to the gym. As I effectively decimated a punching bag, I had a sudden epiphany. Glimpses of the nightmares I'd had over the last several months flashed through my mind. All the carnage, the blood, the lifeless body in my arms. That was all going to be a strange and disturbing reality today.

After running a quick three miles on the treadmill to clear my thoughts, I made my way up to seven to shower and change. Stephanie was waiting for me in the kitchen by the time I made it out of the bathroom, a half-eaten Boston Cream in hand.

"How can you look so calm?" she asked before taking a giant bite out of the donut. "I'm so antsy right now, I can hardly see straight."

I shrugged. "Years of practice."

She polished off the donut. "Mind sharing some of your secrets, kemosabe?"

I thought for a moment. "I just picture the outcome I want and stay focused. Worry is a waste of energy, so I keep my mind on things that can be changed or improved upon. I guess it comes down to a simple mind over matter ideology. Gotta keep your head in the game, babe."

She frowned. "I just heard a bunch of gibberish. Got anything helpful that can be said in three words or less? Preferably smallish words."

I pulled her over to me and kissed her. "You'll be fine."

"Clever. But what if I'm worried about _you_?"

"Have I ever let you down before?"

"No."

"Then you've got nothing to worry about."

She gave a deep sigh as she leaned into me. "Who's in charge of my body again? After the swap? It better not be Lester. I just know he'll try and cop a feel."

I gave a silent laugh. "My men are all professionals, babe."

She rolled her eyes. "But some are slightly more professional than others."

I shook my head. "It's not Lester. It's Hal."

She shrugged. "Good ole Halosaurus. Guess it could be worse." Her eyes connected with the clock on the wall. "I should probably head downstairs." She hesitated a moment. "Is this…is this the real goodbye then? You know, the last time I get to see you?"

"This is it."

"And you're not worried?"

"No." It was a small lie.

She wrapped her arms tightly around me. "Then I guess all that's left to say is don't get shot."

I smiled before kissing her again. "Don't go crazy."

She gave a small laugh. "Too late."

"Then here's three more words to help you stay focused." I leaned down and whispered them in her ear.

She pulled back and smiled. "Guess it's time to go get dead. Romeo and Juliet, eat your hearts out."

I watched her walk out the door, her last smile seared permanently in my mind. Somehow I knew I'd have the next several months to reconstruct its every detail. Because something still wasn't right, and I was about to do the unthinkable. I was just hours away from murdering the one and only Stephanie Plum.


	42. Chapter 42

_James Conroy POV_

James Conroy stared absentmindedly at the stack of paperwork on his desk. His last meeting with Ranger had thrown him for a loop. Again. The man was irritatingly impossible!

He'd talked for over half an hour about the "real" abduction and a plan he'd started formulating to catch the mastermind behind Stephanie's kidnapping. Obviously the plan had failed. Because the stupid fool had managed to land himself in prison.

But the charge of murder still left James confused. Ranger had obviously been in love with Stephanie Plum. Any fool with half a brain could see it. It was the way he talked about her. All the details just didn't add up.

And yet there were police reports, autopsy reports. Hell, even her dental records matched. James had been looking over the file for weeks. Even adding pieces here and there. There was no doubt the girl was dead. And yet something in the back of his mind wouldn't let him accept Ranger as her killer. And the abductor didn't seem to fit either. He had a strange intuitive confidence about that.

What the hell? When had two plus two stopped equaling four? There was a brutally murdered body and apparently _no_ killer. All that existed was a strangely dark and mysterious man in prison who seemed oddly detached from everything. Hell, he even seemed _comfortable_!

And all of it was making James edgy. He should have dropped the damn case weeks ago. Back when he could care less about the bombshell bounty hunter and the mystery surrounding her murder.

Now he _wanted_ to know what had happened. And he _wanted_ to know how someone like Ranger who had fallen so far could afford to look so smug in handcuffs. He obviously knew something. Something he was feeding James in bits and pieces. And at the same time, maybe not at all.

James suddenly remembered the conversation he'd had with Officer Morelli. Something about Ranger being capable of making people think whatever he wanted them to think. He didn't like the idea of being jerked around by some sneaky con artist.

He thought back to the paid "assignments" he'd completed. There were the two seemingly random paperwork deliveries; one to a funeral home and one to what appeared to be an abandoned business. He was still kicking himself for not snooping into their contents further. Maybe they would have shed some light on all this craziness. Then again, knowing his luck, maybe not.

And then there was the meeting with Doctor Sarah Jenkins. She'd seemed like the biggest lead in the case. When he'd met her, they'd talked briefly about her connection to Ranger, and then she'd allowed him to read through his file that contained his court-mandated therapy from nearly a decade ago. But for what? Was Ranger's history of aggressive behavior supposed to suggest he'd somehow snapped with Stephanie? James had a hard time believing it. The man always seemed in complete control.

Something else was obviously at work here. Something calculated. Something clever. And it was that very something that was driving James mad!

Out of sheer frustration, James tossed his legal pad in the trash across the room. It hit the rim before sinking with a satisfying thud. "Good riddance," James thought.

He flipped on his computer screen and started sorting through emails. As the inbox totals started dwindling, James was suddenly interrupted by a call on his cell. He answered without looking at the screen, assuming it was Lisa.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mr. Conroy?"

"May I ask whose calling?" James had learned long ago not to dive into conversations without knowing the specifics. Like the who, the what, and the why. Otherwise, all those random calls became nothing but giant time-sucks.

"This is Steven Johnson, the warden at the state prison."

"And you're contacting Mr. Conroy because?"

"There was an incident this evening involving some of the inmates here. I was informed that Mr. Conroy had been providing council to one of the men involved."

"And the name of the inmate?" James could already sense an all too familiar sinking feeling.

"Ricardo Carlos Manoso."

There was a long pause. "And the incident?"

"I'd prefer to discuss that with Mr. Conroy."

"This is Mr. Conroy. James, if you prefer."

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Conroy, but Mr. Manoso was in an altercation. He sustained some very serious injuries. And I'm calling because unfortunately he didn't make it."

James dropped his phone. He stood numb and completely frozen in the moment. What the hell had just happened? Because from where he was standing, it felt like the ground had just fallen right out from under him.


	43. Chapter 43

_Creepy Stalker POV_

He sat in his chair and sipped a cup of tea. The contents sloshed around in the mug from the slight shaking of his hands. His control was slipping. Again.

It had been months since the incident with the girl. A strange turn of events that he hadn't seen coming. And yet it had been amazingly clever. The man in black had effectively eliminated the last form of leverage in the game. And just like that, he was back to being untouchable.

The blow had been painful. Practically unbearable. But he had consoled himself with the repercussions of the man in black's choice. To eliminate the power play, he had essentially earned himself a one way ticket to a lifetime in prison.

Perhaps that would have to be good enough. His punishment wouldn't be just losing the girl; it would be losing the life he'd built for himself. He'd lose everything. His company, his reputation, and his future. A malicious grin spread across his face. Maybe it wasn't such a bad consolation prize after all.

Or it hadn't been. Until he'd heard the news. Rumor had it that there had been an altercation at the prison. Old enemies, perhaps. No doubt the man in black had many. Regardless of the circumstances, news from the grapevine confirmed his fatal injuries. _Fatal injuries_. So much for the torment of a lifetime in prison.

So that's how all of this was going to play out. Justice would go unsatisfied. He'd lost his checkmate, and now he'd lost his opponent. The devastating news had him coiled so tightly that his damn tea wouldn't even stay in his mug!

He paced around his small living room still trying to process everything. But he was frantic and not thinking clearly. The man in black had become his obsession. And he didn't know what came next now that he was gone.

He slumped once again in his chair and drummed his fingers absent mindedly on his knee. Closure. He needed closure. He needed to see the body. To let go and be free of the burden of hating the man in black.

Without a second thought, he grabbed a few things off his side table before quickly descending the six flights of stairs to the parking lot below. He hopped in his car and headed across town toward the morgue.


	44. Chapter 44

_Creepy Stalker POV Continued_

The morgue had been closed for several hours by the time a dark vehicle pulled into its empty lot. A few fluorescent security lights flickered eerily in the darkness, but not enough to illuminate the crouching man who quickly picked the locks near the back entrance. He slid through the doors like a vapor of smoke.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness as he made his way down the corridor to the room where the bodies were held. He took one last deep breath as he carefully pushed open the door. He was moments away from ending this obsessive madness.

The room felt cool and sterile. A strange mixture of smells lingered in the air from decaying bodies and strong disinfectants. But he hardly noticed. His attention was entirely focused on the body drawers stacked along the back wall. Only a few were occupied, and he quickly found the one he'd been in search of.

The drawer gave a small hiss as he slowly pulled it out. He blinked a few times in an effort to process what he was seeing. Then a rapid surge of heat flashed through him, and he bit down hard on his knuckle to stifle an enraged scream. It wasn't the man in black!

His hands balled into furious fists as he slammed them down on the corpse. "Where _are_ you?" he shrieked. "You devil! You can't do this to me! I'll _never_ stop hunting you…you monster!"

He was so engrossed in his fit of rage that he hadn't even noticed the large form that had suddenly materialized behind him. Two large arms grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall. Something heavy struck him on the head. And then it was lights out.

He woke in a dark, damp space tied to a chair. His head throbbed to the annoying rhythm of his heartbeat, and all the muscles in his body ached. His attacker stood off in the shadows dressed all in black as he leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his massive chest.

Both stared at each other for what seemed like a small eternity. Finally this new man in black took a few steps closer.

"I just…" he started, shaking his head in obvious disgust. "I can't even believe it."

"Believe what?" he growled back.

The man in black knelt down and stared directly into his eyes. "What's your name?" he asked.

"F-you!"

A heavy fist slammed into his jaw making his head snap backward. "Let's try that again, shall we? I'm gonna need your name, friend."

"Bruce," he snapped. "Bruce Wayne."

"You f-ing serious?"

"Yes," he growled. "What, King Kong? You need proof of ID?"

The man in black shook his head. "Shit," he muttered. "And here I thought I'd seen it all…" He turned around and disappeared into the shadows. When he reappeared, he was accompanied by an older woman. She was small in stature with a slender build and intelligent eyes. Streaks of gray accented her dark hair that was twisted into an elegant French knot.

The man in black knelt down again. "You ever see this woman before?" he asked glancing back behind him.

"She your mother?" he sneered in response. This earned him another blow to the face.

"Please, Pierre," the woman started. "No more of the physical abuse. I can't work with an unconscious patient."

Pierre nodded and took a step back. "My apologies, doc."

The woman took a step closer. "Hello, Bruce. My name is Doctor Sarah Jenkins. And I'm here to help you."

"And why would I need _your_ help?"

"Because right now you're feeling a lack of control and probably extreme confusion. And I'd like to help you with that. But first, I believe there's someone here who has a few questions for you. It would be in your best interest to answer them."

Something moved in the shadows, and another black-clad body suddenly materialized out or nowhere. His eyes narrowed as he realized who was now standing before him. It was the devil himself.


	45. Chapter 45

Ranger grabbed a chair from against the wall and straddled it backwards. "It's nice to finally meet you in person. Bruce, did you say it was?"

He gave a sick smile. "You've been listening."

Ranger's eyes grew dark and serious. "Seemed prudent." He took a couple steady breaths before continuing. "You seem like the impossible man, Mr. Wayne. It took all of my resources and a great deal of time to root you out."

"And here I thought you weren't very smart."

"It's never wise to underestimate your opponent. But I'm sure you already know that. And honestly, I could care less what you think of me. All I really want to know is why. Tell me why you felt the need to ruin my life. Because as far as I can tell, I've never even met you before. And I have a pretty good memory when it comes to faces."

" _You_ want to know the _why_?" he scoffed. "It's something a bully like you could never understand. You only see the world from your towering pedestal. Bending the rules to suit your needs. You thrive on the fear of others. It's been my goal in life to restore the balance. Right the wrongs. Bring the power giants like you down a few notches."

"So you see me as a power-hungry bully?"

"The worst kind," he seethed. "The kind who doesn't even recognize that he is one."

"And your overall goal is to punish me for the error of my ways?" It was more a statement than a question.

"In a matter of speaking."

"I guess you should know that you're wrong then." Ranger suddenly stood from the chair. "I know exactly what kind of man I am, Bruce. And I've been punishing myself for years."

"Good," he spat.

"And if you would have kept this just between us, we probably wouldn't be here right now. But you brought _her_ into this."

"Ah, the girl. A very interesting variable. And _your_ Achilles heel. Sorry about that, mate, but she was too valuable to the cause."

"I'm afraid your apology is too little and too late. You deliberately hurt her, Conroy."

"Conroy?"

"Shit," Ranger muttered. He glanced back to the doctor. "He honestly doesn't know?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head.

"There are consequences, _Mr. Wayne_. It seems you've been clever in the past to avoid those consequences, but I'm afraid the time has come to pay the piper." His eyes narrowed. "You've messed with the wrong bully."

"Do your worst, you devil!" he screamed before clenching his jaw tightly.

Maybe he'd always known it would end this way. After all, you can't play with fire and not expect to get burned. But at least he was still in control. He could choose when to light the final match.

His tongue popped the capsule away from his teeth, and he gently caressed it in his mouth. One final insurance policy. He'd had it ready for months.

The man in black watched him suspiciously before his eyes widened ever so slightly in sudden understanding. He sprang toward him just seconds too late. The capsule was already broken and leaking its deadly contents by the time his hands reached for his face. There was one final sputtering laugh before his head lolled to the side.

"Shit," Ranger muttered.

Dr. Jenkins stepped forward. "Is he?"

"Dead."

She frowned. "I would have liked more time with him. Definitely one of the most unusual cases I've ever encountered."

Ranger glanced over at her. "What did you say he had? Some sort of crazy identity disorder?"

"Dissociative identity disorder. Just a fancy name for multiple personalities."

There was an almost imperceptible nod. "I still don't understand how he never recognized me at the prison. How our meetings didn't bring out this alter ego."

"I believe James Conroy was the dominant personality. Conducted all the processes of daily living, worked a normal job. He probably even had normal friendships. And that part of him had never met you before. His identities were completely separate. Hence why James wouldn't have recognized those places he made the deliveries to."

"You're telling me his right hand _literally_ didn't know what his left hand was doing?"

"More or less."

Ranger sighed. He couldn't ignore the overwhelming sense of relief he felt seeing the lifeless body of the man who'd wreaked so much havoc on his life. And yet he felt something else too. Something that made him wonder if he would have been capable of going through with his initial plan.

Dr. Jenkins stared at the lifeless body that was James Conroy for a few moments before leaving the room.

Tank suddenly appeared next to Ranger and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Guess that takes care of that. You ok?"

Ranger was silent for several long moments. "Relieved, actually."

"Relieved he's finally gone?"

Ranger sighed and shook his head. "Relieved this one won't be added to my ledger. I've got too much to atone for already. Besides, in the end, I kind of felt sorry for him."

"You? Felt sorry for _that_ guy? You remember what he did, right? The whole casket thing, the car wreck, the abduction? That guy is one sick SOB. He doesn't deserve your pity."

"Maybe not. But I'm not sure I had it in me to punish all of him for something only part of him had been responsible for."

Tank shook his head. "Whatever you say, man."

Ranger stood thinking for a moment. "Glad we finally came across those phone records. If Hector hadn't figured out that the hired help had all been represented at some point by our little friend here, I doubt we would've been able to piece this all together. Conroy's "Bruce Wayne" side was absolutely flawless in covering his tracks. All my attempts at cracking him at the prison didn't even work. Not the stuff with his dad, the delivery to the funeral home. Hell, not even the delivery to that abandoned building where we found his wiped laptop."

"Guess the Bruce Wayne identity was buried pretty deep by then. Good thing Doc Sarah knows a thing or two about this shit." Tank paused a moment. "Did you really know his dad?"

Ranger shook his head. "No. But you remember some of those guys. There were so many like him in the military. Hell, we could've been like him. I just used some of the background we found on him to build a story, create an in. Guess I got lucky."

Tank sighed. "Why do you think he didn't show the day…you know."

Ranger shrugged. "Maybe he sensed the trap. He _was_ highly intelligent. The James Conroy side graduated top of his class and passed the bar exam on his first attempt."

"So a brilliant psycho nut-job. And you're sure you didn't know him from your early years?"

"Pretty sure."

"That's freakin' scary, Rangeman. You attract the wackiest weirdos." Tank paused. "Wonder what his end game was."

Ranger shrugged. "He seemed to like strategy and chess-like game play. Don't think he really wanted me dead either. Then the game would've ended. He just wanted someone smart to mess with, to dominate."

"You seem to be unusually calm about all of that."

"It's not my problem anymore. The mission's finally over." Ranger twitched a small smile.

Tank smiled back. "You consider crashin' your funeral on Friday? Could make some people really piss their pants if they thought they saw your ghost comin' back to haunt them."

Ranger barked a laugh. "As much fun as that sounds, I've got somewhere else to be. Loose ends are all tied up here. And for once, I don't have a giant bullseye painted on my back. To be honest, I've thought about doing this for a long time. Wiping the slate. Starting over." He paused. "But then things got complicated."

Tank sighed. "With you, they always are." He suddenly wrapped Ranger in a giant bear-hug. "Take care of yourself, Rangeman. We'll be seeing you."

"You too, Tank. And good luck."

Then the man in black disappeared for the last time into the shadows.


	46. Chapter 46

I slept for part of the flight out of Newark and daydreamed the rest. For once I had nothing better to do. No clients to research, no threats to neutralize. And no dark past to try and outrun. It was freeing. And surreal.

I discreetly studied my new passport. It was a familiar face with a new identity. Well, parts of one anyway. Ricardo Rodriguez. It had been Stephanie's idea. She wanted me to keep something from the past. And I had to admit, it had a nice ring to it. And it kept things simple. Less to remember.

Eventually my flight landed at the Argyle International Airport, and from there I caught a connecting flight to the J. F. Mitchell Airport on the island of Bequia. I felt a growing sense of anticipation as I completed the last stretch of my journey. I was almost home. This moment felt like a lifetime away when I was locked up back in Jersey.

I frowned remembering everything I'd gone through. What I'd allowed myself to go through. Had the mystery been solved at the time of Stephanie's murder, I would've walked away with zero jail time. Conroy would've been framed for her murder, and I would've fatally wounded him defending myself when I showed up for a late-night chat with Steph. There were even eye witnesses in place to corroborate my account of what happened.

But as luck would have it, he never showed. So the plan changed. I took the heat for the murder and bought us additional time to follow more leads and get to the bottom of who was behind everything. Those months in prison hoping and waiting for new updates on the case were some of the longest of my life.

Now all of that was behind me. My final mission was complete. And it was time to start looking ahead to the future. Something I had never allowed myself to do before. At least not long-term.

Once I landed, I found a local driver and handed him a paper with an address. As we meandered our way through town, I tried to enjoy some of the tropical scenery. But it was no use. I could've been surrounded by Van Gogh's "Starry Night" and I wouldn't have noticed. All I could focus on was my destination.

Finally we pulled up to a small apartment complex. I paid the driver and grabbed my single bag of belongings. I gave the building a quick onceover before making my way up two flights of stairs. Within seconds, I found the door that matched the address I'd chanted over and over in my mind for months. I contemplated picking the locks because the joke was still funny. But I liked the idea of having a key. It solidified this new place as home.

I stepped through the door and glanced around. The space wasn't anything spectacular. Its décor was simple. Practical yet elegant. Nothing compared to the apartment on the seventh floor of Rangeman. For a brief moment, I missed Ella. Maybe if I paid her way, she'd come out for a visit sometime. Add some of her charm and style to this new space.

But that was a thought for another time. Right now, I only had one thing on my mind. And I'd felt its increasing pull the moment I stepped through the door.

She was here. Judging by the darkened windows, probably in bed sleeping. The mere thought made my heart race in eager anticipation.

I gradually made my way down the hall and stopped just shy of the bedroom door. This was one of those moments that dreams were made of. At least my dreams. It reminded me of the safe house back in Jersey. Today I really was just a man coming home to the woman I loved. I tried to hold back an already growing smile. It was no use.

Slowly, I pushed open the door. I paused thinking that something felt off. But I convinced myself it was probably me. After all, we'd spent several months apart. Surely things were bound to be a little strange.

After the feeling subsided, I stood in the doorway and watched her sleep. Old habits and all. She looked beautiful, completely content and relaxed. Like the Stephanie I remembered from another time in a completely different tropical location. But I had to remind myself this wasn't Stephanie anymore.

Stephanie Plum was gone. She'd died in my arms months ago with the help of a body from the morgue that bore an uncanny resemblance to the bombshell bounty hunter. It was oddly unrelated to everything that had been going on at the time. A random stroke of luck. And I'd used it to its full advantage.

Memories flashed through my mind of the lifeless body in my arms. I can't even remember how many times I had to convince myself that none of it was real. I think it was all the blood that became too much. Bobby really outdid himself with all the special effects. Those coupled with Morelli's reaction, and it really could have been the real deal.

I absentmindedly touched the new scar above my eye. It had been a good dramatic stunt, but part of me wondered if Morelli was giving me the old "you screw this up and hurt her, and I'll finish what I've started here" bit. Sneaky bastard. Can't say that I wouldn't have done the same if I were in his shoes.

Finally I couldn't take the suspense any longer and crossed over to the bed. Stephanie-no, make that Michelle-gave a soft sigh in her sleep, and I couldn't help but smile again. She really was a sight for sore eyes.

I kicked off my shoes and crawled across the bed. As I inched my way toward her, I noticed her hair looked almost a shade lighter. Those soft chocolate curls had already been bleached, kissed by the tropical sunshine. I was jealous.

I brushed the back of my hand against her bare shoulder, and she stirred.

"You're coming home soon?" she murmured in her sleep. "'Cause the dreams just aren't the same."

I kissed her cheek, and watched her lips turn up in a lazy smile. "Oh, I like _that_. But don't wake me up before the good stuff like you did last time."

"I promise," I whispered in her ear.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Rang…? Carl…? Dammit! It's Ricardo, right? Or Ric?"

"You can call me whatever you want," I smiled.

She rolled over to face me. "I've been practicing. Honest."

I quickly covered her mouth with mine to stop the chitchat. After all, I'd been waiting an eternity to kiss those perfect lips.

After clicking on the bedside lamp, I pulled her into my arms and ran my hands along the curves of her face. Retracing every detail I'd been imagining for months. She brushed the hair from my eyes. Then frowned when she noticed the scar.

"Prison fight?" she asked, giving a small shiver at the thought.

"Morelli, actually."

Her eyes grew wide. "No way."

"Just a couple of stitches. No big deal." I leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled back.

"Can I tell you something? Before we get carried away and my brain short-circuits?"

"It can wait," I said between kisses. My hands slid beneath the sheets and reached for the hem of her tank top, but I stopped just shy of finding it. I slowly pulled back the covers and gave the smallest breath that was probably a failed attempt at a gasp.

Stephanie glanced down and rubbed her slightly swollen stomach. "I wanted to tell you," she said on a whisper. "So many times. But I didn't want it to be a distraction. I didn't want to risk anything happening to you. I'm so sorry. Are you mad? Please say something."

My mouth refused to oblige her simple request. I was still paralyzed with shock. The thought had honestly never occurred to me. I was so focused on completing the mission, getting home.

"I screwed this up, didn't I?" I finally asked.

She quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

"I should've been here. With you."

"Honestly, you didn't miss much." She made a face. "I was mostly blowing chunks like that scene from The Exorcist. Not exactly my best moments, if you know what I mean."

"Babe."

She smiled. "And you didn't miss the sonogram," she added enthusiastically. "The appointment's next week."

I reached over and put a hand over her stomach, and my heart suddenly caught in my chest. This moment was one I'd always tried to prevent in the past. One I'd been terrified of becoming a reality. Because I was expecting a repeat of my experience with Rachel and Julie. But Ricardo Rodriguez didn't have to worry about that. _He_ could be the father this child deserved.

Stephanie covered my hand with hers. "Are you ok? I really should have told you sooner."

"No, everything's better than fine, babe. Just old worries from another life."

"I didn't think you worried about anything," she winked.

"I guess I don't have to anymore. The future's wide open with endless possibilities. And even brighter than I ever thought possible."

"Good grief. You sound like a cheesy Hallmark card," she said rolling her eyes.

I leaned over and whispered some suggestions I had for the remainder of our night together. "Is _that_ better?" I asked.

"If Hallmark put out cards like that, I'd go broke buying them all," she giggled.

I barked a laugh before continuing the reunion I'd been dreaming about every night since we parted.


	47. Chapter 47

_Epilogue Part One_

Joe Morelli opened his garage and guided his latest project out into the brilliant sunshine. The black paint looked sleek and sexy. And the chrome sparkled as if it was new. He shook his head. She would've loved it.

An orange, shaggy mass ambled up behind him and licked his hand. "You miss her too, don't you Bob?" Morelli asked. He rubbed the dog between the ears and was rewarded with a dopey dog smile.

"What do you say we take this fancy bike out for a spin?" Bob gave his gravelly bark of approval.

Morelli had just settled onto the seat when something caught his eye. A small package was leaning up against his front door. He dismounted the bike and walked over to pick it up. The postmark was unfamiliar. But there was a small sticker of a cupcake next to the label with his address. He smiled before pulling out his pocket knife and opening the box.

Its contents were minimal. Just a small, golden statue and a note. Morelli unfolded the piece of paper and read through its contents.

 _Dear Joe,_

 _This is to commemorate a particularly stellar performance by one, Joseph Morelli. The Academy has voted and dubbed you the winner of the award for Best Supporting Actor. Guess you've come a long way from your meager beginnings as an apple tree in the grade school production of_ The Wizard of Oz.

 _I really am sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. Those last few days were utter chaos. But you should know that I'll miss you. You were one of the few people who made this decision particularly difficult. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if I could imagine life without you. The bad boy next door. And eventually one of the best friends I've ever had. Thank you for giving me this one last gift. It means more than you'll ever know._

 _On a completely random note, I hope at some point you fix up that beauty of a bike sitting in your garage. She deserves a night out, Joe. And maybe a new coat of paint. You treat her right, and I'm sure she'll give you the ride of your life._

 _Wishing you all the best for your future,_

 _Cupcake_

 _PS: Give Bob a big ole hug from me! He deserves the Best Therapy Dog Award.  
PPS: Not sure how I feel about Ranger's new scar… Couldn't you have punched him somewhere other than his face? Oh well. Guess it gave an element of realism to the event. Again, stellar performance._

Morelli refolded the note and pulled out the statue. It was cheesy. A cheap imitation of one of the real Oscar trophies. But it was special. It was from her. He'd probably put it with the small ring box that she'd never seen. Both symbolic in their own way of missed opportunities.

Bob followed him back inside as he placed the box on the counter and grabbed his helmet. Then he made his way back out to the waiting Ducati and admired her one final time before hopping on. The machine growled to life beneath him as he eased it down the driveway. He revved the engine twice before taking off down the street. Steph was right. He knew by the end of the block that he was in for the ride of his life.


	48. Chapter 48

_Epilogue Part Two_

I was sitting in my office when I heard a faint knock on my door.

"Come in," I called.

A smaller woman with graying hair and a warm smile entered. She was carrying a tray with my lunch and a few business reports.

"Thanks, Carol. Any new messages?"

She pulled out a few sticky notes that she'd jammed deep in her pockets, and started reading them off.

"You've got a meeting with that new millionaire that wants to install top-of-the-line security for his newly finished vacation home. He seems kind of annoying, but probably worth the hassle. Then there was a call about a glitch with a motion sensor. To be honest, I think Mr. Smith has been sleepwalking again, but what do I know?"

I shook my head and twitched a small smile. Even with her subtle quirks, Carol had been a nice addition to the company. And despite her unorthodox notetaking practices, the woman ran a pretty tight ship. And she kept people happy. Myself included.

"Oh, and you got a strange call from the states. Gruff sounding fellow who didn't say a whole lot. Just something about international business prospects." She scratched her head. "Is any of this sounding familiar? The guy said he knew you."

"He leave a name?"

"Yeah. Just his first name, I think. Something foreign sounding like Pablo or Pedro…"

I raised an eyebrow. "Pierre?"

"Yep, that's the one!"

I thanked Carol for lunch and the messages. Then she returned to her post at her desk, and I felt another smile cross my face. It was time to make an important international call.

That night at dinner, I pushed the food around on my plate absentmindedly. Michelle watched me curiously.

"Something happen at work today?" she asked before spooning some mashed potatoes into our daughter's mouth.

"Mmm."

"Is that a good "Mmm" or a bad "Mmm"?"

I snapped out of my daze. "Pretty sure it's a good "Mmm". Got an interesting call from the states today."

Michelle lifted an eyebrow. "Something I should be worried about?"

"Maybe." She frowned. "But only the kind of worry you get when we have visitors drop by."

"My parents?"

"Not this time, babe. Think linebacker types."

She jumped from her chair squealing. "Really? How many? Which ones?"

The baby startled and began crying.

"Oh, sorry sweetheart. Mommy just got a little excited." She pulled her out of the highchair and kissed her. Then she turned back to me. "You didn't answer my question. Who's all coming?"

"Tank for sure. Maybe Bobby and Lester too."

"What about Hector? I've _really_ missed Hector."

"He might be busy. They're opening a new office in Seattle."

She nodded, a hint of disappointment crossing her face.

"They're bringing Ella out this time," I offered in consolation.

Michelle grinned. "This calls for cake!"

Two weeks later, I was parked outside the airport waiting for my friends to land. It had only been a couple of years since I'd seen them last, but it might as well have been a couple of decades. So much had changed for all of us.

Eventually three giants and a sweet older woman stepped through the automatic doors, rolling suitcases in toe. I was leaning against the SUV, arms crossed over my chest. Tank saw me first. I could tell he was fighting back a smile.

They made their way over to the vehicle, and I shook all their hands trying to keep with the plan of this being business related. Ella caved first. She flung her arms around me and planted a firm kiss on my mouth.

"Ricardo!" she exclaimed, my face still in her hands. "Handsome as ever. Life's been good to you, I think." She gave me a knowing nod.

"So it has." I smiled.

Tank gave a disgruntled sigh. "Sorry about the delay." He glared over at Lester. "Santos was running his mouth again about some _unique_ weaponry. We had to have a little discussion with airport security to clear the air."

I laughed. "It's nice to know some things never change."

Bobbly looked around. "Where's the fam? I've been anxious to meet your little mini bomber."

"They're both back at the house. Michelle had a few last-minute things to finish up before you landed."

Lester made a face. "Michelle. We can still call her Bomber, right?"

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind. But I don't know that the name really fits anymore. She's got a different career now, and we haven't had a car go up in flames since we've been here."

"Well _that's_ disappointing," Lester frowned. "You guys must be bored out of your minds."

There may have been a hint of truth to that statement. Our little security company was just that. Security. No undercover ops. No off-the-records jobs. Just high end security systems for the insanely wealthy.

Although we had been cultivating a relationship with local law enforcement recently. Doing the random undercover surveillance jobs here and there. Michelle liked the stakeouts. Said they reminded her of our first dates.

"It's not so bad. Turns out toddlers keep you pretty busy."

The guys all shook their heads, but Ella smiled. Then we all piled into the car and headed for home.

Michelle was still hanging up streamers when we walked through the door. Our house kind of resembled an over-the-hill birthday party. Black balloons and black streamers were strung up _everywhere_. Just one of the many reasons I didn't do parties. But I wouldn't dream of taking that kind of "fun" away from Michelle.

"The place looks great, babe," I said before giving her a quick kiss hello.

She pushed me away and ran toward our guests, her smile just a notch below the biggest I'd ever seen it.

"Ella!" she squealed before flinging her arms around her. "It's been way too long!"

Ella held up a finger before reaching down for her suitcase. She unzipped it and pulled out a small paper bag. When Michelle saw it, I thought she was going to hyperventilate from overexcitement.

"You _didn't_ ," she gasped. She opened the bag and stuck her face in to inhale the intoxicating aromas. "Ahhh," she sighed blissfully. "Nobody makes Boston Creams quite like the Tasty Pastry. Ella, you're the best!"

She turned to the guys and gave a frown. "Are we going to have to do this the hard way?" she asked putting her hands on her hips.

Lester stepped forward and pulled her into a giant bear hug. "Hell no, Bomber! Gosh it's good to see you!" He set her back on her feet and took a step back to look her over again. "You look like a tanned, tropical beach goddess. Guess the new climate's been good to you."

"Stop that, you charmer." She slapped his arm playfully before turning to Bobby. "You keeping all these mischief-makers in line?"

He shook his head and sighed. "If only it were that simple." Michelle pulled in him for a hug. Then she turned to Tank.

"Well don't look so offended, big guy. I saved the best for last." She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. He gave a slight smile. The Tank equivalent of a full-on grin.

"Now that that's all out of the way," Michelle said waving them all inside, "come on in and make yourself comfortable. You've all had a long day of travelling."

I helped take the suitcases down the hall to the spare rooms, and popped into our bedroom to check on the baby. We'd moved her into our room so that Ella could sleep in the nursery. Two beautiful blue eyes stared up at me from the crib.

"Hey baby girl," I said as I scooped her up into my arms. "We have some visitors. Want to come out and say hello?"

She smiled for a moment before grunting and wriggling in an attempt to get down. I set her on her feet and watched as she toddled off down the hall.

I followed her out and smiled once I set foot in the living room. Ella had already snatched her up and was kissing her chubby cheeks making her giggle in obvious delight.

"Auntie Ella loves you, beautiful little girl. Yes she does," Ella crooned. "She's just beautiful," she said turning toward Michelle. "Just look at those eyes! And that smile! I could eat her right up."

The men shifted around uncomfortably, apparently not sure what to do with all the fawning over the baby. Michelle had an amused smile on her face like she was enjoying their baby phobia.

"Do any of you want to hold her?" she asked, a hint of wicked in her grin.

They all waved their hands frantically. "Oh no, that's ok. Don't want to deprive Aunt Ella of any baby time."

My mouth twitched slightly.

"We decided to name her Rosalina. Rosie for short," Michelle added.

Rosie slid off Ella's lap and walked over to investigate the group of men. She paused in front of each one before finally holding her hands up to Tank.

"Up?" she asked waiting for Tank to oblige her request.

Lester and Bobby snickered. At least until Tank gave them a flash of a death glare. Then he turned back to Rosie and lifted her awkwardly into his lap. She started clapping her hands, and Tank breathed out a faint sigh.

"It's not so bad, is it Uncle Tank?" Michelle asked, amusement still lining her smile.

Tank had on his "forced to watch a chick flick" face. Pained and uncomfortable. I asked if anyone wanted beverages and quickly slipped into the kitchen in an effort to keep from full-on laughing. The gathering was perfect. And priceless.

Our visitors stayed for a few days. Michelle and Rosie played island tour guide while I put in half days at the office. Then we'd all come together in the evenings for dinners. Ella even volunteered to cook one night, which was delectable as always.

The last full day of their stay, the men and I all went out snorkeling and hiking. Michelle and Ella were turned loose with a credit card. A decision I hoped I wouldn't come to regret.

That night after everyone had gone to bed, Michelle sat next to me and took my hand. Her eyes were bright and vibrant like they always were, but I could see a small hint of sadness.

"Do you regret not staying?" she asked.

"No," I answered honestly.

"Not even a little?"

"Not for an instant."

"But you look so happy when you're with all of them. Like it's where you belong."

"I belong with you. And Rosie. I wouldn't have had either of you if I'd stayed. Life would've still been too complicated."

"So you'd choose boring little old me over your adrenaline filled life of adventure?"

"Always," I smiled before kissing her. "And babe, you are _far_ from boring."

"Oh?" she asked curiously.

"Especially when you do that whole trick with your tongue."

She shook her head. "I have no idea what you're talking about." I felt a subtle shiver course through her body; she knew _exactly_ what I was talking about.

"Here," I said before hitting the lights. "Let me help you remember."

The next afternoon we were back at the airport, preparing to say farewell to our friends. Ella practically bawled when she hugged Rosie for the last time. Even the guys had a hard time handing her back to Michelle.

Tank pulled me aside while the girls continued to blubber out their goodbyes. He handed me a small wrapped package and gave me a solid pat on the back.

"Lookin' good Rodriguez," he said gruffly. "Open that if you ever need a good pick-me-up."

I gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "Take care of yourself Tank." I handed him a small bag. "And give this to my mom the next time you see her. She still hasn't made it out here yet."

He nodded before grabbing a couple suitcases and heading through the sliding doors. Eventually the rest of their crew followed suit. Ella still blowing kisses to Rosie as the doors closed.

Michelle wiped her eyes again as we all piled back in the car. "I had the best time," she sniffled. "They'll come back again soon, right?"

"Ella said she was coming back next month. Just couldn't bear to be away from Rosie any longer than that."

Michelle smiled. "Good."

A few nights later, I was up late working on some last-minute client portfolios when I came across the gift Tank had left. Curiosity got the better of me, so I peeled off the paper. It was an unpackaged DVD. Rambo. I shook my head.

I took it out to the living room and started to open it to watch a few favorite scenes when a small piece of paper fell out of it onto the floor. It was a folded note. I opened it and started reading.

 _Rangeman,_

 _Things really haven't been the same without you. But they're good. The company still runs like a well-oiled machine. Speaking of, thanks for the tip for the startup in Seattle. Turns out there's a decent market there for the type of services we provide._

 _Your business looks like it's doing well also. Whenever you're ready, just say the word, and we can look into a buy-out of some kind. Maybe make it a little easier to bring out more of the guys._

 _Guess that's all I really wanted to say other than one final thing. I'm glad you figured out your equation, man. Looks to me like you've ended up with nothing but the good stuff. Hope you enjoy the movie._

 _Tank_

 _PS: Best not watch the movie with Bomber. She might not believe your whole macho thing anymore if she sees you cry at the end like you always do. Just sayin'. Love ya, man._

I refolded the note and looked again in the DVD case. Cleverly hidden inside was a copy of _It's a Wonderful Life_. I smiled to myself thinking that the sentiment couldn't be more accurate.


End file.
